


Momentary

by lialle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Reality, Character Death, F/M, Haunted mansion, Hermione/Ron - Freeform, I've been told it is, M/M, angst (I think), but not really because he's a ghost, but really, but who knows, ghost fic, gore(?), he's dead, horror(?), i mean yeh, inconsistencies, it depends on you if this is scary or not, neville/luna - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lialle/pseuds/lialle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A group of University students visit a historical Mansion in their town for an assignment. Not everything is as seems, and soon they discover that death isn't necessarily as permanent as they once believed. Or perhaps just not as separate from life. </p><p>'You fear me. Just like they do.' Tom whispered. 'But I'll give you a whole new reason to fear me. When this is over, you'll be mine forever and then you'll know pain, you'll know suffering and you'll know solitude.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Photograph

‘Is this the place?’

‘... Yes, I do believe it is.’

‘‘Elddir Manor’, ey? It don’t look so bad.’

‘It’s said to be haunted, you know.’

‘That’s bullocks. Ghosts? What a load of crock.’

‘I, for once, and only this once, agree with Weasel. Have you ever seen ghosts Granger?’

‘... No...’

‘Then it’s unanimous. Ghost’s are folly. Now are we going to go in or not?’

 

―∞―

 

Elddir Manor was an old building, near 150 years old, and had been abandoned for the last century. The newspapers around that time did not document much of the disturbances that had occurred around the house, but the death of one family member was mentioned on occasion. 

The grounds are now overgrown; the gravel road leading to the entrance of the Manor dark and gloomy, trees overhanging with underbrush and dead leaves decorating their roots; the once grassy, perfectly manicured garden beyond the road was a mess. The Manor itself was in relatively good condition. The stone walls were covered in vines in parts, or even moss, and a few of the windows were cracking or gone. Some of the roof shingles were falling in, decaying, but the vast majority were in decent order; enough to protect the inside from the weather to a degree.

Six young adults, four men and two women, walked down the driveway, staring in awe up at the large building standing before them. 

―∞―

‘In late 1914, during the first world war, this house was abandoned by all occupants. The Potter family and their three employees left after Harry Potter passed away, who was their youngest son.’ The six University students stood at the foot of a large staircase that broke off in two directions when it reached the wall, curving back up to create a balcony above the entrance hall. The wall before them, at the first landing of the stairs, was a large window. The dirty, scratched glass was barely covered by moth-eaten crimson blinds, and what was exposed of the window let in the only source of light for the room. The group stared around and took in the large entrance room.

‘Hermione, seriously, shut it. I mean, we like totally know already.’ The bushy haired brunette narrowed her eyes at Pansy before muttering under her breathe and turning her gaze away from the other girl. She looked up at the giant and partially broken chandelier. 

‘That looks like it could fall, doesn’t it Herm?’ A tall red head asked his girlfriend, putting a calming hand on her shoulder.

‘Yes, it does, but if we have any luck it won’t fall while where here. But perhaps we should move from under it just in case.’ The group silently agreed, moving up the stairs. Creaks and groans emitted from the old floorboards under the molding faded red trail carpet that lead up to the second floor. The group ascended in silence, hands trailing the railing, eyes towards their feet as if their eyes could judge if the wood would collapse under them.

‘It’s strange how much this house hasn’t decayed; it’s been almost a hundred years since it was empty. You’d think things would be falling apart all over the place, instead it’s just a little moldy and dusty.’ Draco spoke as they reached the second floor. A long hallway stretched off in either direction with doors leading off it, while the balcony continued around the room with two large windows looking out onto the driveway. Light trickled in through dark curtains, mostly intact, barely lighting the hallway enough to see much after a couple of doors. ‘Did any of us bring torches?’

Rustling was heard as Neville carded through his bulging messenger bag, pulling out a small plastic torch – one you would take away if you were not expecting much trouble. The shy man handed it over to the tall blond, meekly looking at his feet after it was taken off him with a grunt. Hermione scoffed at Draco’s lack of manners, and Blaise laughed in amusement.

‘So, we’re all here for pretty much the same reason, right?’ The dark skinned man asked, grinning as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Silence met his question for a moment, Ron preferring not to reply, Hermione distracted while looking at what looked like an old family portrait.

‘Yeh, I’d say so. We’re all researching about the family and their history, right?’ Neville supplied after a moment, managing to sound somewhat confident. Hermione looked over at the group before picking up the framed photo from a corner table between two hard wooden doors. She walked back to the other five, shoving the photograph toward them. 

The group looked down, taking in the five people within the frame. It was sepia, slightly red, high exposure, grainy, but you could see the faces clearly. Stoic, calm, no smiles. Took too long to capture the image to smile. There was one daughter, dark hair, pretty, like her fairer haired mother. The sons looked like their father, one with similar glasses – the youngest of the three siblings – the other as tall as the father. It was the family, presumably two or so years before the house was abandoned. 

‘They look nice enough.’ Eyes turned to Draco, and everyone shrugged in agreement. Hermione kept the photograph, depositing it in her bag. 

―∞―

How many rooms had they searched, looking for information? Books crumbled in their hands, cool air curled around their ankles. Yet they found nothing. Eventually, after a couple of hours, the group decided to split up, going in pairs off to different sections of the Manor.

‘You take the east wing, we’ll take west.’

‘And we’ll take the first floor.’

―∞―

‘Drake, why does the second floor look so, like, well, less ‘worn down’ then the rest of the house?’ Pansy asked after twenty minutes of silence, walking between rooms on the first floor. Draco shrugged, eyes skimming over an old peeling painting or what could have been a Potter ancestor. He was dark haired, green eyed with a strong facial structure; a strong jaw and sharp cheek bones. He was handsome. Pansy bumped her shoulder into Draco’s, trying to get some contact. He stopped walking and stared at the painting.

‘Draco… I’m cold.’ Pansy shivered as if to emphasize her point, wrapping her arms around her torso. She hunched her shoulders up, wishing she wore something other than her thin purple graphic t-shirt and jeans. She glanced behind her, as if sensing something watching, eyeing her every movement. Shrugging it off she turned back to Draco for a moment, before looking at what he was absorbed in. ‘He’s cute, isn’t he Drake?’ 

‘Yeh.’ The blond answered absently, tearing his gaze away from the portrait. ‘This is a sitting room, I think. There’s the fire place, and those would be the chairs and couches, I suppose.’ He pointed towards caved in furniture that looked as if it was taken to with an axe. He raised an eyebrow before shoving his hands into his jumper pockets. ‘You’re right Pans, it is cold in here.’ Draco glanced over to the single window in the room; it wasn’t open. He frowned, ‘wasn’t there just a gust of wind?’

―∞―

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, weren’t doing much searching of their allocated Manor space, but instead of each other’s mouths.

‘Ron… Ron… Ron! We should… be searching… the rooms!’ The brunette attempted to say between kisses before giving up and shoving her boyfriend off. ‘Do you want to fail this assignment?’ She tapped her foot on the hardwood floors, all of which appeared to be in immaculate condition as if time had stopped in this part of the house, freezing the decay of the wood. The room they were in was large, almost dust free. A mirror adorned the left wall when you walked into the room, a chest-of-drawers under it.   
Paintings littered the walls haphazardly, all of which looked as if they were done by the inhabitant of this room, whoever that might have been. A large bed was under the window and the curtains were closed. On the bed was a dark red splatter that looked faded from the sun in some parts. The bed itself probably once had perfect white sheets, but at this day and age it was splattered with a dark brown… something that they could not place.

This room was cold and dim. Hermione noticed all of this, staring in shock.

‘Ron, this room is almost in perfect condition…’

―∞―

‘So, do you believe what Granger said before? That this place is haunted?’ Blaise turned his head to glance at Neville, bright eyes watching his ‘searching’ partner. His hands were still in his pockets, in fact he had not removed them ye, and any doorknobs that need to be turned were done by Neville. He smirked a bit as he turned back away, listening intently to the house around him. It felt like it was talking.

‘Leave… leave’ 

That’s what it was probably saying, what it seems like it was saying. The boys shivered, a cold wind tickling the back of their necks, circling them. Neville’s teeth chattered, his face paled. He shoved his hands in his armpits, hunching his shoulders.

‘What the fuck?’ Blaise swore, swirling around, staring down the hallway. It was so dark, they had Neville’s torch but that barely made much difference, it just cast shadows, making them jump. The dark skinned man crossed to the covered window, pulling back the dark curtains. Nothing changed. It remained as dark as before. Blaise frowned, dropping his hands from the curtains, letting them rest limply at his sides.

The window was clear, closed and the sky was overcast but no light entered the hallway. Neville gapped, looking around him as another cold breeze blew past. Ghostly hands crept across his exposed skin, curling around the nape of his neck, carding their fingers through his hair. He trembled, turning slightly to see Blaise’s shocked expression, watching as it changed to fear.

‘W-what the actual f-fuck?!’

―∞―

Draco turned the doorknob, pushing open the door. He walked into the new room, glancing about as Pansy clung to his arm. It was a large kitchen; clean, untouched, mostly iron and wood. Draco paused, frowning deeply.

‘It’s... it isn’t... destroyed like the rest of the house. Pansy... what the hell?’ He looked down at his friend, shock evident on his face. Pansy was just as shocked, looking around the kitchen as if she’d just seen the unbelievable. 

‘I dunno Drake... doesn’t it feel warmer in here too?’ That was when Draco noticed it, the warmth. It was so unlike the rest of the house, so unlike the hallway just outside the room, which had felt like it was almost below zero. Draco detached himself from his friend, walking further into the room, looking around.

Everything appeared to be left as it was the day the Manor was abandoned. A cooking book lay open on the center table; a book that was probably owned by a member of the family. Annotations lined the margins, personal methods for making some of the baked foods; scones, pastries. It was in neat writing, clear and legible, as if it was written just yesterday. Next to it lay what appeared to be a journal, discarded for anyone to come upon and read. Draco flipped it open and was greeted with the same script as the annotated cook book.

The first few pages were poems, decorated with scribbles and annotations. As Draco turned the fresh white paper the contents changed, no longer were they poems, but instead journal entries, thoughts of a person who live in this time. Dates marked the pages; 19th of April, 1911. 3rd of August, 1912.

‘Pans... check this out.’

―∞―

The bedspread, on closer inspection, did nt look like a brown splatter but in fact like dried blood with red blotches; still wet. Hermione gasped, stepping back from the bed, hand against her mouth. Ron gapped, staring wide-eyed at the bed before him.

‘But... t-this house... it’s been empty f-for so long... A-and this is partly fresh...’ Hermione stuttered, eyes watering in apprehension. She looked away from the bed, nervous brown eyes taking in the clean, dust free room once more. As she walked over to the chest-of-drawers the floor creaked; a sound that was not as pronounced as it should have been, considering the age of the Manor. She placed her shaking hands on the hardwood surface that reached her breasts, dragging them over the smooth surface feeling for dust. Hermione frowned, her brow creasing in thought. She ‘hmmed’ as she opened the top draw. It scrapped; wood against wood, opening to reveal clothes which were still intact, no decay, no smell, no dust or spider webs. It was all clean.  
Hermione ruffled through it carefully, seeing if anything was hidden. Her previous apprehension forgotten as a new curiosity came upon her. Nothing really interesting in the first draw, or the second or third except some hidden jewelry and crumpled up scribbles on paper that the owner saw fit to keep. The fourth and final draw did not seem to hold much promise, they were once again filled with clothes. Hermione stuck her hands into it, pulling out some odd bits and pieces to try and get a better look at what was within the draw. She sighed, obviously disappointed, until her hand came in contact with what felt like a book. She pulled it out, and looked at its thick spine.

‘The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.’

Ron, who was standing behind his girlfriend, frowned at the book. 

‘How lame. The bloke who lived in this room must’ve been a bore.’ Hermione looked up at the red head from her spot on her knees, glaring half-heartedly up at him. She clasped the old book lovingly in her hands, turning back to its cover. The book did not withstand time like the rest of the room; the cover was a faded green, the bind a lighter, more yellow green which was faded as well. The pages were browning and thin, the same paper used in an old BIble, and were easy to tear. She flicked through the first few pages.

‘It was published in 1907.’ She closed the book, pondering for a moment before depositing it in her bag, along with the photo of the family. ‘Let’s go back to the main foyer and wait for the rest of the guys."

―∞―

‘How about we, well, you know... go back to the entrance to this place?’ Blaise offered, not bothering to hide how spooked he was; he could see Neville was scared as well, if not more so. Neville nodded, his hand shaking around the torch, and began to walk back the way they came. The dark skinned man followed, his hands once again shoved into his jacket pockets, but this time it was done so to hide his shaking and sweating hands.

―∞―

Draco and Pansy sat in silence at the foot of the grand staircase, the journal held between them as they read. Footsteps echoed above them, Blaise’s head popping out over the banister and looking down at them before walking around and down the stairs and to the entrance hall. Neville followed behind him, torch off. Both boys were pale faced and a little shaken. They sat down on the same stair as Pansy and Draco, Neville staring off into space, Blaise staring at his friends.

‘What happened?’ Pansy asked, looking up from the journal and staring at her friend, ignoring Neville completely. Draco glanced up at Blaise for a moment before turning back to the book in his hands, reading silently and listening to their conversation on the side. Blaise thought for a moment, looking down at the ground beside his foot before back to Pansy.

‘We were looking through part of upstairs, it was dark. The windows didn’t let any light in, even if the blinds were open. It was cold, a lot of wind but no open windows... It felt like fucking hands...’ He trailed off, hands moving in their pockets a moment before one came out and brushed through his dark hair, brushing it out of his face as he looked around the large foyer. Pansy frowned, glancing down at the journal in Draco’s hands.

‘The rooms we visited were sometimes cold. They were all destroyed; like, except the kitchen. The kitchen was, like, in perfect condition... The cooking book on the bench was in perfect condition, the pages weren’t even browning or molding or anything! We kept it, it’s in my bag. But we also found this journal next to it, both books looked like they were owned, like, by the same person. It’s really interesting, but the entries are infrequent. It has bits from as late back as 1909 until 1914... Poems as well. They aren’t so good.’ She shrugged, giggling a little. ‘I suppose our time wasn’t as freaky as yours.’

‘Blay, we also saw a pretty old portraiture. It looked like it could have been of someone related to the family who use to live here. He was pretty hot for someone who was born probably two hundred years ago.’ Draco added in, smirking as he closed the journal and put it away in his bag. He turned to his two friends as Ron and Hermione came down the stairs, both of whom were not talking to each other; Ron looking slightly bored and Hermione thinking deeply.  
The couple sat down in front of the group on the stairs, sitting cross-legged or stretched out. Hermione looked at each person with a frown, as if contemplating something.

‘One of the rooms upstairs was in perfect condition. Nothing damaged, no dust.’ She paused for a moment, frowning again. ‘The bed was different though. There was fresh and dried blood on it. Do you think someone was here just before we came?’ Hermione thought for a moment. ‘But it wouldn’t be possible... Blood dries pretty quickly on fabric, and some of it was pretty wet...’

The group sat in silence for a moment, as if listening to the sounds of the house and not their own thoughts. Neville looked around, feeling a lot better now that he was with his friends again; not as scared. He did not think about what happened before with Blaise in the hallway, immediately categorizing that as part of that ‘ghostly’ stuff old houses like these were associated with a lot these days. 

‘Help... help... me...Help me... help...’

Neville jumped, looking around wildly.

‘D-did you j-just here that?!’ He asked in a squeaky voice, looking at the people around him with wide eyes. Blaise, Pansy, Draco and Ron looked at him weirdly, Hermione with curiosity. ‘It was... like someone was asking for help... but... whispered, or muffled, like I was too far away to hear...’

Hermione listened for a moment before shaking her head, not hearing anything. Draco, Pansy and Ron continued to look at him like he was crazy while Blaise frowned.

‘I heard something like that before in the hallway...’ Blaise said as if surprised, his voice hushed, eyes slightly wider than normal. He shivered and looked at his two friends, imploring them to believe him. ‘It was if the house was telling me to leave. At least... that’s what it sounded like...’ He sighed, hunching his shoulders slightly.

Silence encompassed down on the group for a moment, a breeze blowing past, the temperature dropping as if to match their moods.

‘You know, I’ve got this feeling that something weird is going on here.’

―∞―

The group went separate ways, planning to meet there again that night, figuring that maybe more interesting things would happen; or more frightening. Blaise, Pansy and Draco went out to lunch in town, to a coffee shop they frequented.

After ordering their drinks and getting some cut sandwiches the group of three sat down at their usual table outside, watching passers-by for a moment and chewing absentmindedly on their lunch before turning to each other. A silent message seemed to be passed between them. Draco put his sandwich down, reaching into his bag and pulling out the journal.

‘It’s Harry Potter’s. It ends a couple of days before it’s said that he died. It’s an interesting account of his daily life; how he wasn’t allowed to leave the house, how he had to stay out of his father’s way, how his mother was always sad, his siblings gentle with him. It also mentions this Tom Riddle fellow, who isn’t mentioned in any of the records we’ve come by of people in employment within the Potter household.’ Draco paused for a moment, thinking about what else was mentioned as the drinks arrived. 

‘He also seems to believe this Riddle bloke had a great dislike for him... but Potter also talks a lot about strange events that weren’t recorded in newspapers or anything of the like; such as disappearances, deaths of horses, accidents around the house. He might have been a bit delirious from not being allowed to go outside, but he might have also been telling the truth. Some of it’s all pretty believable; I’m just not sure about the whole Tom-Riddle-hating-Harry-Potter part.’ He stopped, fingering the journal lying flat on the table. ‘He’s an interesting young-man. I think he said he was seventeen around the time of his death. Or maybe he was eighteen. I don’t know when his birthday was. He might’ve died before or after it.’

Blaise looked down at the table, thinking about what his friend had said. ‘Read it some more later and see what else you can figure out about the poor bloke. He might come in handy with our assignment. We could always do it about him and the house, not just the whole family. Focus on the youngest. That would mean, then, that we wouldn’t have to spend as much time around that stupid Trio.’ He grinned, chuckling. Pansy giggled, Draco grinned back.

‘That’d be a great idea. But I still want to go back tonight. We’ll all bring some night provisions though, make it real interesting; document it!’ The group agreed and began to eat and drink, talking about the day so far and other events that had transpired, or gossiping about the Trio.

―∞―

The Trio, or also known as ‘the Golden Trio’ for reasons unknown to them, were sitting around the kitchen bench in Hermione’s house. Their conversation was very similar to their ‘darker’ counterpart, but mainly centered on the absence of destruction in the room Hermione found the Shakespeare book; about the bloodied bedspread.

‘Do you think that was where Harry Potter was murdered?’ She asked, leaning forward on her elbows, chin rested in her open palms, waiting for a response with bright eyes. She smiled, interested, curious. Neville fidgeted, looking down at his hands on the bench. Ron looked like he was in deep thought; a novel event by far.

‘Perhaps. It… it wasn’t ever said how he died… was it?’ Neville spoke, looking up at Hermione. Hermione nodded, agreeing with him. She bent down to pick up her bag at her feet, placing it on the counter top. The framed photograph was pulled out, as well as the Shakespeare collection. She tapped the frame for a moment, looking down at the five faces. Hermione frowned, bending down to get a closer look. 

‘Wait a second… Can you see that in the background? Among the trees?’ She turned it around so the boys could see, pointing to the spot where she saw something odd. Neville peered closer, narrowing his eyes slightly, a frown creasing between his eyebrows. Ron looked, his eyes widening slightly.

‘Is that… a person?’ Hermione nodded, smiling in sort-of pride at her boyfriend.

‘It does look like that, doesn’t it? It looks like a she. She looks like she’s smoke, hardly there…’ She paused, squinting closer at the photograph. ‘It’s hard to tell… But it looks like she wasn’t supposed to be there…’

―∞―

I sighed, looking around me with awe, taking everything in with rapid succession. It was the first time in years that I’d been outside, even if it was only a few feet from the back door. The sky was blue, the sun almost blinding. The grass was well manicured, the flowers blooming. I guess that was what spring was like, a little warm, beautiful. I can feel my skin burning, unused to such strong natural light beating down on it. 

Mother wanted to take a family portrait, outside. I suspect it was to get me out, to learn what wind felt like on my skin. Maybe it was just to have a photograph to show family in the city; a photograph to accompany fake stories of family trips to the lake. Maybe it was neither, maybe she just wanted something to hang on the wall or put in the hallway.

‘Harry.’

I turn back to the camera, staring at the man behind it. He nodded in approval and began talking about where my sister should sit; Mother and Sister had chairs brought out for this. 

The man smiled, lifting the cover over his head and bending down to look through the lens. He fiddled with the camera for a moment, checking to see if we all fit into it or something. I don’t know, I’ve never looked through a camera; never used one, never felt one.

I feel myself frown, my eyebrows drawn together. A pained look, I think. I want to know these things. I want to know what grass feels like, in my hands, between my toes. I want to learn how to use a camera.

Click. 

I’ll never see this photograph.


	2. Apparition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While I may have heavily edited this, there are probably still mistakes. And some sentences are most likely still incredibly awkward. Feel free to point out mistakes, or critique the writing. Keep in mind, though, this is old. xD My writing, I hope, has improved since 2009. Its pretty funny, though. My chapter lengths start to drop down from here, and the last chapter that I wrote is only 1,200 words long. And this is over 4,000. That's a pretty big drop! xD
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, though. It's pretty light reading. :3

Apparition

 

The sun was setting, casting a dull glow over the forest – which in actual fact was the garden, but after years of not being taken care of it had transformed – and reflected off the few un-smashed windows. The sky was clearer than it had been around midday, and the moon was slowly becoming visible in the sky. The night birds were waking up as the sun sank below the horizon, and darkness flooded the underbrush. 

Light flooded the driveway, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath the tires of a car as it approached the Manor, the passengers encased within it looking up at the building with rising apprehension. The only sound to be heard around the eerie grounds was the car as it slowed to a stop outside the Manor. Draco, Pansy and Blaise stepped out.

Draco paused to look up at the looming house, while Pansy and Blaise continued up to the Manor doors with their belongings . Draco’s eyes scanned the windows, his eyes catching movement. He froze, his eyes widening, taking in moving blinds, a dark room, a pale face. It was gone before he could speak, before he could register more of the features of the person in the window. Which room was that?

He shook his head, pushing the image out of his mind. If someone else was in the house, they’ll come across them eventually, no point in worrying over it. Draco followed his friends, shifting the bag on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. 

As each of them entered the house they looked around, taking in the differences that being there at night made. All three took out their torches and turned them on, shadows flickering across the walls in the expansive entrance hall. The chandelier on the roof shimmered, clinking with a slight breeze. Blaise shifted uncomfortably on his feet, an anxious expression on his face and in his eyes. He broke off from the other two, inching toward a large tapestry on the wall. His torch shone across it, lighting up parts of the fabric. He hadn’t taken much notice of it when they were here before lunch. It was a family tree, proudly presented for all to see. It had space at the bottom to add more, a lot more, but it went back a few centuries. 

‘Draco, Pans... check out the family tree. It’s of the main branch in the family, and it ends with Harry.’ Blaise spoke, drawing his two friends over to him. They stood by his sides, their own torches roaming over the tapestry. Pansy frowned, putting her torch under her arm and shuffling through her bag. She pulled out a camera and turned it on. Glancing up at the tapestry in front of her, although now what she was looking at was dark, she readied her camera and took a shot. The flash went off, lighting the whole area in front of her.

Draco jumped, not expecting the camera flash, his breath caught in his throat for a moment, his heart racing, eyes glued to once spot on the family tree. He shone his torch above his head, focusing on the spot he saw.

‘Some of the names are burnt out...’

―∞―

Hermione, Neville and Ron arrived not long after Draco, Pansy and Blaise, and parked their car behind the other group's. They got their belongings and surveyed the building in much the same way as Draco had. Hermione tried to figure out where the room herself and Ron visited was but couldn’t place it. They walked up the steps outside the Manor, pushing the heavy doors inward and entering the building.

They stopped at the threshold as their eyes adjusted, leisurely reaching for their torches and turning them on. The light coming from Blaise, Draco and Pansy’s torches, as well as their voices, had alerted them to their presence beforehand. Hermione led her friends over to them, but no one interacted between the two groups.

Silence embraced the Entrance Hall as all six people stared at the Tapestry. Draco sighed, moving away from the wall, his torch facing in front of him as he crossed the floor. His friends followed, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Hermione frowned, following after them.

‘Have you found out anything important? Neville told us you found a journal.’

The three friends looked between themselves before turning around and facing Hermione. Draco shrugged in a noncommittal gesture.

‘ Yeh.’ Hermione raised her eyebrows, smiling sweetly as her boyfriend and Neville came to stand on either side of her. The three of them sighed in almost perfect unison, Draco reaching into his bag to bring out the journal. He handed it over to Hermione before crossing his arms over his chest, giving her a bored look.

Neville, Ron and Hermione looked down at the book, a torch light being shone down on it. Silence descended once again, Draco, Pansy and Blaise turning to each other before breaking it by talking among themselves. The others continued to read in silence.

April 12, 1914

Dear Diary,

I’m not sure if you remember as the last time I wrote in you was quite some time ago, but my name is Harry Potter. I know you’re only a book, but I’ve become quite attached to the thought of you. I’m sad that I stopped writing in you for nearly two years, but my eldest brother found out – somehow – that I had a diary. He made fun of me when he could for a long while.

Life is still the same. Father has me still confined to my rooms - which have now only become one - the kitchen and the library. The door that conjoined my bedroom to the other was blocked off. I do not know why he had that done.

A man joined my household on my fifteenth birthday. I’m almost seventeen now. I’ve seen him quite a few times since then, and the maids were whispering about him being called ‘Tom Riddle’. They also thought he was rather handsome, and I suppose I cannot disagree with that. He is most agreeable. 

My birthday was a simple affair. Mother had a couple of the maids take up a portion of a cake to me in the morning, as well as a note saying ‘Happy Birthday, my Son’ and a book with the entire collection of Shakespeare plays. At least she knows what I enjoy. 

Later that day, while I was in the kitchen having some lunch and talking to the cook about pastries, the Head of the Staff came in with the Tom Riddle I mentioned before. The staff in the kitchen all stopped and turned to him, some of the women blushed if I remember correctly. His attention, I do believe, was mostly on me, but I’m not sure why. 

That is my first encounter with Mr. Riddle. We were introduced, myself as the youngest son of the Potter family, and he as Tom Riddle, new maintenance man for the house.

It is almost time for my dinner to arrive, it is probably smart that I stop writing now; you never know who will see.

Harry Potter

Hermione finished reading first, frowning at this new information. She looked at Draco and his friends across from her, receiving practically the same look in return, one that clearly spoke ‘Yeh, I know right? That poor guy was pretty much grounded for life’. She sighed sadly as her companions finished reading and closed the journal. It was handed back over to Draco as conversation broke out.

‘Is that true? That that Harry Potter kid was confined to his room and the other two places? In that entry we read he didn’t state a reason, do you know what it is? Have you read the whole thing?’ Neville asked, his curiosity breaking him out of his usually meek behaviour. Blaise sighed, looking away to the side for a moment before turning back to the golden trio. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

‘Yeh, I’m guessing it’s true, unless the kid had a vivid imagination. Draco read the whole thing, and throughout it there wasn’t ever a reason stated. It was mentioned that Harry didn’t know why, as you’ve probably gathered from that entry, and he never finds out from what we gather. He died shortly after the last entry.’ 

The group was silent, listening to the sounds of the house and their own thoughts, torch lights and eyes wandering the Entrance Hall. They were under that Chandelier again, the glass chinking against each other. It appeared to be electric, but the house had no power connected to it so they could not turn it on. 

It was decided that the two groups would split up again to wander the house, but not to designated areas. Draco took this as the opportunity to drag his two friends up the wide staircase, hoping to come across what – who – he saw in the window.

They wandered the dark and still hallway, opening doors to destroyed rooms as they went, not discovering anything meaningful. Pansy had a video camera on, commentating as they went.

‘Draco sighs, angry and frustrated at not having found what he was looking for. Blaise looks less than amused, handsome features a mask of boredom. I, Pansy, believe he is acting, and that he really is excited, that his heart is hammering in its cage.’ She paused, camera following its subjects as they walked. ‘Draco glares, his aristocratic features forming an expression that makes me swoon, pity he’s gay. Oh! Watch out Blaise! Out little man whore might be after you next! Haha-eeek! Draco! What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?! STOP CHASING ME!’ Pansy screeched as the ran away from her friend, cackling all the way. 

Draco caught up to her easily and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up from the ground and twirling her around. He put her down and started tickling her sides, her cackling turning into raucous laughter. Blaise followed at a more sedate pace, but was grinning from ear to ear.

‘With the way you’re screaming, Pansy, I’ll be surprised if you don’t wake up the dead.’

―∞―

Ron, Hermione and Neville were wandering the bottom floor, unaware of the fun and games happening upstairs. The only girl in the golden trio was attempting to have an intelligent conversation with her two male friends. Attempting despite the fact that Ron did not get most of what she was saying – or was choosing not too – and Neville was quietly contemplating – both of which were obviously not what she was vying for.

She soon gave up, as people do, and focused her energy on taking photos of pieces of art and anything interesting that might be used later. The group soon came across the sitting room with the ‘handsome’ man in the portrait, the one Draco and Pansy saw before they found the journal and cookbook. Hermione took a photo of this as well.

‘Who do you think he was?’ Hermione asked. Neville thought for a moment, Ron just shrugged. Hermione smiled, lowering her camera. ‘Yeh, I haven’t got a clue either. He’s obviously a Potter though, I mean, he does look like them, and he is in their house.’ She tilted her head to the side, still smiling to herself. 

The three shivered, looking anxiously around the room as a slight breeze played around their ankles. Hermione gulped, remembering once again the bloodied sheets in the bedroom upstairs. Neville paled drastically, his own mind recalling the events of that morning; how cold it was in the hallway upstairs, how the light didn’t shine through the window even when the curtains were moved. Ron’s eyes watered slightly and he shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his hands together around his torch as his eyes surveyed the room, his light guiding their way. They felt watched.

‘Fuck... what’s going on here?’   
―∞―

Draco, Pansy and Blaise were quiet, standing in the middle of the room Ron and Hermione visited that morning. It was how the know-it-all described it; dust free, no damage, a bloody bedspread. What she hadn’t mentioned though, was that the bed was un-made, as if someone had been sleeping in it for a while.

‘You’d think, if this is Harry’s room, that his parents would have cleaned the bed and re-made it, or left it without covers. That is, of course, if this is his blood.’ Draco spoke as he stepped toward the plain four poster bed. The blood splatter was as Hermione said, and it had been quite a few hours since she saw it. The blood was still wet in places, a sticky, drying mess. Pansy shuddered, looking away and gagging silently.

‘Still grossed out by blood Pans?’ Blaise chuckled, poking his friend in the side. Draco looked back to his friends, grinning from ear to ear. Pansy glared at both of them, her eyes switching between the both of them, arms crossed across her chest; pressing her breasts up as she did so, her chin slightly tucked into her neck. Draco outright laughed, looking away from her and shaking her head.

‘Pans! Stop pouting!’ Pansy dropped her stance, gaping in open-mouthed horror at her blond friend.

‘Gosh guys! What’s your problems?’ Blaise grinned, gripping her around her shoulders.

‘How about we drop this subject, highly amusing though it is, and move back onto what we are here for.’ Pansy frowned but nodded anyway, pushing Blaise off of her. Draco’s grin deflated to a smaller smile, nodding in agreement while still openly staring at Pansy, trying to rile her up.

‘And what might we be here for, anyhow?’ Pansy asked, waving her torch around dramatically, casting strange shadows across the walls. Draco rolled his eyes, lifting his foot to take a step toward his friends but stopping and staring down at the dark floor. He blinked, shining his torch at the ground. It took him a moment to recognize what he was looking at.

‘Ah-what-the-fuck?!’ He moved quickly over toward Blaise and Pansy, gripping his dark-skinned male friends’ shoulders in panic. Draco blinked wide-eyed, his skin becoming a shade of white. Pansy squealed, jumping a foot in the air at the sudden outburst and clinging to Blaise like Draco. Blaise blinked helplessly, his heart thudding against his ribcage in adrenalin. He frowned after he gained some composure, shining his torch on the ground were Draco stood. 

All three friends froze, staring is horror at the ground.

Pansy screamed, shrill and blood-curdling as her nails digging into Blaise’s shoulder.

―∞―

The golden trio stared at the ceiling above them, blinking in silence as Pansy’s scream ended. They turned to look at each other, eyes watering in horror, minds working at increased speeds, thinking and then re-thinking about what had happened. Neville shook, wringing his hands, his shoulders hunching up.

‘D-do you t-think t-they’re o-okay?’ Hermione asked, wrapping her arms around her torso, her boyfriend circling his arms around her shoulders and bringing him in close.

‘Dunno... we should go check, though.’ No one thought about how weird that sounded coming from Ron’s mouth. It was a mutual agreement about the choice that came next. Hermione nodded to herself, unwrapping her arms from around her torso. She turned off her camera, putting it in her bag, and directed the flashlight in front of her. 

The group turned around, in no rush to get anywhere. Fear gripped them, hindering their movements. Fight or Flight kicked in, screaming for them to run and hide. They pressed on, walking back down the dark hallway, fear tingling against the skin, hair sticking up on the back of their necks. Silence pressed in around them, suffocating, controlling their reactions. Neville pressed in next to Hermione, Ron still with his arm around the brunette, his torch checking dark corners at each turn.

Their faces were pale, Hermione’s lips were parted and tears of fear prickled in her brown eyes, one leaking down her cheek. Ron rested his cheek against her bushy hair.

None of them spoke as they travelled down what felt like a never-ending hallway, doors at near regular intervals on either side. Dripping permeated the silence, a distinct stench wafting down from the ceiling. None dared to look, fearing what they would see. Ron ceased checking corners above eye level, sticking to keeping his torch light on the ground.

Hermione’s breath shuddered, a sobbing sound that only caused the dripping to echo louder. Their footsteps echoed off the walls and wooden floors, Hermione’s hand shooting out and grabbing a hold of Neville’s, forcing him to unfold his arms. He tightened his grip, glad she had thought to lend him some comfort. His teeth chattered, the cold biting into his skin.

‘D-do you think t-they’re a-alright?’ No one answered the question, diverting their eyes from one another. Why lie?  
―∞―

‘OH MY GOD! What the FUCK is THAT?!’ Pansy screamed, pointing at the floorboards under the bed. Cold sweat trickled down their skin, clouds of breath visible in the air before them. The room was freezing, the three friends clinging to each other for support, confused, scared and unable to run.

‘I-I think i-it’s b-blood.’ Draco replied, unable to keep the shaking out of his voice. Blaise swallowed loudly, the torch in his hand wavering, the light on the ground shaking. Pansy covered her mouth with her hand, her lips parted in a silent scream.

From under the bed blood seeped, a steady flow in thin arms, as if reaching toward them. The puddle grew larger, creeping toward them, they stepped back, fearful eyes watching the glinting red. Blaise took a deep breath, carefully unhooking himself from his two friends – who then clung to each other – and walked slowly toward the bed. His foot connected with the blood, making a squelching noise. Slowly he continued forward until he reached the bed, bending down and taking a look under it with his torch shinning to guide his way.

‘What are you doing?’

The three jumped, spinning around quickly only to see a pale boy with dark hair, obvious bed clothes – a baggy white shirt and slightly tighter white pants – and a glowing aura around him. He looked at them curiously; the only colour in him was his green eyes, like two shinning gems. Draco gasped, shell-shocked. Blaise blinked before looking down at his shoes. He pulled a disgusted face before quickly walking over to his friends. Bloody footprints followed him.

‘I was looking under the bed … and who the HELL are you?’ Blaise crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear defiant, confident and not in the least bit scared; which, at this point in time, was not true. Pansy ran behind Draco and over to Blaise, burying her face in his shoulder, clinging to him tightly. She shook, her eyes screwed shut tight.

‘Can you see me?’ The boy asked in awe, a desperate expression on his face. He leaned forward a bit, hands clasped in front of him. Draco nodded, not trusting his voice.

‘Y-yeh, we can.’ Blaise uttered, slinging an arm around Pansy’s waist. Draco blinked slowly, a little dazed and confused. The boy grinned, moving forward a couple of steps. Draco’s eyes widened as he stared at the boys feet.

‘Y-you just w-walked without t-touching the ground!’ He exclaimed, pointing his finger at the dark haired boy’s feet. The boy paused, his eyes widening as he stared at the ground and his feet. He blinked, wiggling his pale toes which were an inch above the ground. He gasped, hands clenching.

‘Oh my! What’s going on? Who are you people?!’ The boy yelled, stepping back, his wide green eyes frantically looking between the three intruders. ‘Why are you in my room?! Where is my family?! What have you done with them?!’ The group took a few steps back from the raging boy, closer to the blood spreading from under the bed.

Pansy screamed, clinging tighter to Blaise as the furniture in the room shook, the doors rattled and the mirror and windows cracked. Draco yelped loudly, looking wildly around the room. He took a deep calming breath – which only served to aggravate his anxiety even more – and took slow steps toward the panicking, crying boy.

‘I-it’s okay… er… sir. M-my name i-is D-Draco. Um… we-we’re not g-going t-to hurt you, or anything… W-what’s your name, then?’ The blond student asked, slowing his steps and attempting to calm the boy by slowly reaching toward him. The glowing boy stopped crying, his hiccups the only thing coming from him for a moment. He calmed down, tears drying on his cheeks.

‘M-my name is –hic- Harry.’ Draco smiled sadly at the boy, slowly retracting his hand.

‘Harry Potter?’

‘… Yes.’ The furniture in the room slowly stopped shaking, the three intruders sadly looking at each other. Pansy sniffled, drying her eyes on the back of her hand. She looked back behind her, shifting away from the drying blood. ‘That’s so gross’ she muttered to herself. Blaise attempted to grin at her, but it looked more like a grimace. They were all thinking the same thing: Poor Harry.

‘Er… what year is it Harry?’ Draco asked, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. Harry frowned, looking at all three of them as if for the first time. He gapped, confused and still anxious.

‘1914, I-I think… I’m not quite sure… Where is my family? I-I haven’t seen them in s-so long…’ The three friends sighed, frowned and looked sadly at each other. Harry’s expression turned frightened, hands being wrung in front of him. Why were they acting like that? What was wrong?

‘Harry... it isn’t 1914, it’s 2008. No one knows what happened to your family… They left shortly after you… died.’ Blaise said quietly, pulling Pansy closer to his side. Draco shifted on his feet awkwardly, hating the way his shoes stuck to the ground slightly. Harry stared, breathing heavily.

‘No… No!’ The ghost yelled, hands flying to his ears, tears rolling down his porcelain skin again. He screamed, the mirror cracking and smashing, the windows blowing out. The three torches wavered, the light flashing, casting awkward, moving shadows. Ron busted through the door, pausing on the threshold, Hermione and Neville on either side of him. Harry turned around to face the three new intruders, still screaming with his hands over his ears.

Pansy took this as her chance to run past the raging ghost, dodging an ornament that went flying off of the chest of draws, squeezing out past Ron. Blaise followed closely, silently agreeing with Pansy about this being the right time. Draco stood stock still for a moment, sadness shining in his eyes before shaking his head and high-tailing it out of there. 

―∞―

‘What the FUCK was THAT?!’ Ron bellowed as soon as they thought they were a safe distance away – they were now in the kitchen on the first floor. Hermione nodded in agreement, a look of permanent shock on her face. Neville was pale and the other three were shaking; Pansy in tears, Blaise with his arm around her shoulders and Draco hugging himself and staring wide-eyed at nothing in particular. Blaise cleared his throat, loathing the fact that neither of his companions was ‘well’ enough to reply in his stead. God he just wished he could stay silent.

‘Harry Potter. Or, well, the Ghost of Harry Potter.’ A collective gasp wrung from the golden trio and the utterance of Harry’s name woke Draco up out of his stupor. He looked at the group of people around him, noticing that none of them were paying him any attention, and decided to wander around the large kitchen. 

He breathed deeply, attempting to calm his speeding heart, as he looked at the benches and cupboards, not opening anything, but just looking around. Silence settled down over the group as the news of what just happened settled in. Pansy broke it just as suddenly as it descended.

‘Blood. There… t-there was blood seeping f-from under the b-bed..’ She sobbed openly now, burying her face once again in Blaise’s shoulder. He encased her fully in his arms, whispering calming words into her ear. He rubbed her clothed shoulders gently, his own fear of the house shining in his watery eyes.

Hermione gaped, looking around blindly as if trying to find some logic in the situation. She shuddered, leaning back into her boyfriend and hugging herself before speaking.

‘God, and this whole little trip was basically to do some research on history. The history of this stupid house. Why the fuck did we decide to come back here tonight? There was no fucking requirement or anything? So why are we even here?’ She made a frustrated noise, tears gathering in her eyes as she shuddered, Ron wrapping his arms around her.

‘We’re here because we were curious. The wind, the lack of decay in some rooms compared to others… don’t tell me you weren’t dying to know why.’ Draco spoke from the other side of the kitchen, leaning on the bench with his hands supporting him, staring down at them calmly. ‘We now have a chance to understand how Harry died. What happened here beforehand. He’s the only one who paid any attention!’ He took the diary out of his bag and slammed it down on the bench.

‘He gave us clues in this. He didn’t spell it out, but he did leave clues. If we can get closer to his ghost… maybe he can tell us what really happened, how he died. The papers from this time wrote it off as suicide. I doubt he did that. His diary said as much.’ He sighed, frustrated, pushing himself violently away from the bench and pacing for a moment. ‘That’s why we came again, isn’t it? We all had an inkling this morning about something paranormal, right? Now we know it’s true. Now we can find out about the hidden facts!’ Draco stopped and looked at them all, who were all looking at him. They all nodded, agreeing with him.

‘Then let’s set—’ 

They froze, looking around them wildly as people came into view, as the room lighted and glowed warmly. They gaped, shocked as sounds accompanied the see-through people, who were obviously kitchen workers. Voices, clinking of dishes, sounds of running water, laughter. The lighting of this echo flickered, the people disappearing and re-appearing.

Pansy screamed, hands covering her mouth. The people disappeared slowly, phasing out, the sounds dulling a few moments afterwards.

‘God damn, it’s almost like something that would happen in Torchwood.’

The group all turned to face Neville, wide-eyes and pale facing gaping at him.

‘No… just… no.’  
―∞―


	3. Labyrinth

‘So how about this: we go home now, meet up again tomorrow a couple of hours before seven, discuss this… thing here, and then come back and do a stakeout. Or there about.’ Blaise offered as they stood around the kitchen bench. They were throwing ideas out there about what to do tomorrow. Should they come back, or not? The group seemed to be unanimously voting for coming back, but having difficulty on deciding the circumstances. They were all still rather shaken, having encountered a ghost and even viewed what appeared to be an echo of the past. Hermione frowned.

‘That seems like a good idea. We can meet up at a diner and throw out theories. I’m rather curious as to what you all think about this situation.’ She smiled weakly, still shaking but it was more or less from the cold. Ron was still holding her close and rubbing her clothed arms. Everyone was warmly dressed, but was still feeling some of the freezing temperature in the kitchen – guessing it was something paranormal. ‘Maybe, later, we can contact a paranormal… enthusiast… who can possibly help us understand.’

Everyone nodded at this, some silently thinking that a paranormal enthusiast would be more trouble than they were worth – or just plain crazy. It’s not every day you come across someone who makes a ‘living’ out of such… strange things. 

‘So, let’s meet up at Ruby’s, order some dinner, and discuss the turn of events. Bring everything you think you might need for a long night, too.’ Draco frowned, thinking just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything else. He shook his head, leaning forward on the bench with his palms balancing him. ‘Five-thirty, sixish, around there I suppose.’ He took the diary off the bench and put it in his bag, walking over to his friends and patting Blaise on the back. ‘See you all tomorrow.’

The group disbanded, Ron, Neville and Hermione leaving before Draco, Pansy and Blaise. The latter group congregated at the end of the bench closest to the door, pondering what they were about to inevitably discuss.

‘Professor Snape knows a lot about this place; maybe we should visit him around lunch time at the University and ask him some questions. Maybe he can enlighten us.’ Blaise offered, starting their conversation after a belated moment of silence. Pansy nodded, smiling slightly.

‘I’d love to see the Professor.’ She supplied, rolling on the balls of her feet with hands clasped in front of her, her smiling widening slightly. Draco nodded, agreeing with Blaise’s offer.

‘It would be a good idea…’ They paused for a moment, Draco frowning and glancing at the door. ‘I don’t know if we should go looking for Harry tomorrow night. It might not be too smart. You saw the power he had… It could be suicidal.’ He shifted awkwardly, feeling sorry for the Ghost. ‘Maybe when we understand the situation better, or when he seeks us out, or in a couple of days when he might be calmer. Whichever comes first.’

Blaise and Pansy nodded, both not overly eager to search out the boy. They grabbed their belongings – what they had put on the ground or bench – and left the kitchen, making a slow and fearful progress to the Entrance Hall and then beyond to their car. Draco checked his digital watch through the walk, the glowing digits reading fifteen to two.

The eventually reached their destination, silently hopping into the vehicle and driving off, eager to go to sleep at their own houses. As soon as they got home, they were off to bed, desperate for some respite from their waking thoughts, but knowing that their dreams would unlikely be any better – dreams of blood seeping from under beds and raging Ghost hell-bent on killing. They could only hope that tomorrow brought a better day – less scary and more productive.

 

―∞―

The next day saw early risers and bad dreams. 

Draco yawned, shuffling around tiredly in his small kitchen as he made himself breakfast. It was 6.20 in the morning and freezing and his bed down the hall was still warm and comforting. He had near five hours until he had to meet up with his two friends at the University to talk to Professor Snape, to discuss the known history about the Manor, what they had discovered – minus the paranormal – and debate about their theories and knowledge. He was looking forward to it, but currently wishing he could have stayed in bed, free of any nightmares and thoughts about the Manor. 

He was up half the night – and predicted that the other five people were as well – thinking about Harry and the paranormal events of the night before. It soon became boring and tiresome, as he didn’t fall asleep until after three in the morning.

Draco yawned again, stifling it with his hand before he picked up his made cup of tea and toast with jam, walking slowly towards his living room and dining room in one – which was also attached to his kitchen. His apartment was small and he was known for his fortune – his parents being rich and all – but Draco preferred to live University as other Students did – just without the hectic job hours needed to pay bills and live.

He flicked the TV on, sitting on the nice couch and setting his plate on his lap, the warm cup of tea in his hands. Draco chose to spend the rest of his morning this way – drifting off to think about Harry Potter and the Manor.

―∞―

It was approaching twelve o’clock when Draco’s car pulled up outside the University, his two best friends sitting in the car with him. The sun was hidden behind grey clouds and Draco was silently thankful. They sat in silence for a moment, presumably thinking over what they were going to say to their History Professor before turning off the car and jumping out. Draco locked the vehicle and led the group up to the University – otherwise known as Hogwarts – entering through the open front doors and making his way towards Professor Snape’s Office. 

Blaise knocked on the door, waiting a moment to hear the Professor’s voice call out to them before reaching out again and grabbing the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open. He led his two friends into the room, standing a meter or so past the threshold, unsure about how he should act in the presence of his History Professor. Draco walked further past his point, Pansy sticking close to his side.

‘What is it you three want?’ Severus Snape asked, looking up from the papers on his desk, stilling his pen and watching three of his students curiously. Blaise shifted uncomfortably, clasping his hands in front of him as he nervously watched his teacher. Draco frowned for a moment, Pansy slipping her arm through his.

‘Could you tell us everything you know about Elddir Manor?’ Draco asked, leaning on Pansy slightly to give her some comfort. He knew his friends were wary of their Professor, since they knew for a fact that he was not very kind at all. Severus Snape frowned deeply, setting his pen down and leaning back slightly in his leather chair.

‘And you didn’t think to do research about the house before hand?’ The Professor asked, raising an eyebrow as he regarded his three students with what could have been seen as a slightly startled look. Draco averted his gaze, slightly ashamed but knowing he shouldn’t be.

‘We did. But we couldn’t get much information on it. It was all news cuttings from 1914 or random tid-bits. Pretty much all useless.’ Draco answered, looking up at Snape again. Snape sighed, looking over to his bookshelf and thinking for a moment.

‘I have a book that might be helpful, and seeing as you took the initiative to come and ask me for some help, I’ll let you use it. Don’t tell anyone you got it from me, if it does prove useful, okay? I don’t want any nosy brats coming around and claiming I’m treating you differently.’ The Professor supplied, standing up from his desk and walking over to his bookshelf, long and slender finger tracing along the spines of the books, searching for the right one. He made a small noise in acknowledgement when he   
found it, pulling it off the shelf and handing it to Draco. ‘Don’t lose it. Don’t wreck it. I expect to be given it back in very much the same condition when this whole assignment is over.’

‘Thank-you Sir.’ Draco nodded slightly, giving a small smile. He turned around and led Pansy out of the room, Blaise following.

‘Don’t bother me until Classes start up again. Is that clear?’

―∞―

Six-thirty rolled around quickly, the group of six sitting in a booth at Ruby’s, drinks and plates of food in front of them. Their two cars sat outside, all of the equipment they thought they would need were sitting inside them. No words were spoken as they ate silently, all contemplating the history of the Manor. Draco and his two friends took it upon themselves not to mention the book.

As their dinner slowly came to a silent end – somewhere around seven o’clock – the group paid their bill and left. They hopped into their respective cars and drove the ten minute drive to Elddir Manor, excited, anxious and apprehensive. They pulled up outside the Manor, turning of their cars and grabbing their belongings. They silently walked into the house, Ron holding open the heavy doors for everyone, letting them close as the last person entered. 

They all looked around for a moment, turning on torches in the dark space, waving them around to expose bits and pieces of the house. 

To the group, this little adventure had turned into more than just a History assignment. Genuine curiosity burned in their veins, driving them to the truth. 

Hermione sighed, lowering her torch. She looked around at every one of her fellow students, a thoughtful frown on her face for a moment. She walked over to her boyfriend, hooking her arm around his waist. She leaned her head on his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

It would be the second night in a row that the six had very little sleep. She wasn’t looking forward to leaving later and going to bed if something frightening happened tonight as well. She sighed, focusing her torch just in front of her feet as Ron led her over towards Neville, grabbing the boy by the arm and directing him for a dark corridor they hadn’t looked down yet, to the right of the stairs. 

‘We’re going to go look down there.’ He told the other three who shrugged, nodded and grunted in reply. Ron rolled his eyes, leading the way down new territory. 

Blaise watched the golden trio go before walking over to Draco and Pansy, who were standing next to each other. He nudged Pansy slightly as he came to stand next to her, giving her a comforting smile. She smiled back, pushing him gently in the chest.

‘So, you two want to go in the opposite direction?’ Blaise asked, grinning at Draco. The three chuckled, heading off down in the direction of the kitchen, then branching off down a different corridor – one Ron, Neville and Hermione had been down, but didn’t get too far. They opened a few doors here and there, looking around dark rooms with torches lighting their way. Conversation was sparse, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. 

After half an hour the trio came across their first locked door. They stood there for a moment, looking at it curiously, before Blaise sighed and tried opening it again with more force. The door itself looked like it was in good condition; it wasn’t rotting like some of the others, and the handle wasn’t rusting. Blaise gave up after a minute or so of grunting and pushing. 

The friends looked at each other with looks of curiosity and frustration; all were a little shocked about their discovery of the locked door. Slowly they shook away their thoughts, setting off down another corridor – completely missing the dark moss like substance creeping up from under the door. 

It was a few minutes later that the corridor met a dead end with a heavy looking door before them. It didn’t prove to be of any difficulty as Blaise opened it without force, all three friends walking in on a double story library – bigger than any they had seen. They supposed the Potter family enjoyed collecting books – Harry probably enjoyed his visits to the library. The set off around it, eyeing the spines of many of the books on the shelves, Draco awed and so interested he removed a few of them from their places and putting them in his bag to read later on – fully intending to return them, of course. They didn’t come across anything interesting for their cause, although Draco made a mental note to come here again during the day so he didn’t have to read the titles by torch light.

‘I wondered where the library was, seeing as Harry wrote about it several times in his journal.’ Draco commented, his voice echoing around the dark and expansive room. He looked around cautiously – just as Pansy and Blaise did as well – as his voice called back to him, jumping slightly as if he was afraid of a ghost appearing to yell at them for being loud in the library – which at this point seemed all the more likely for them. Instead of encountering another spirit silence greeted their closed mouths and open ears and began to press down on them, scaring them all the more as their minds filled the dark with sprites and nightmares. 

They shook themselves out of their silence, pushing away their fearful thoughts in favour of turning to each other. They stared at each other for a moment, blinking dumbly before jumping at the sound of a door opening, voices encompassing their hearing. Torch light shone in the direction of the sound, landing with a faded glow on three figures – Ron, Neville and Hermione. The dark trio sighed in relief, glad that they were wrong about what they feared it could have been instead. 

The golden trio approached their darker counterparts with trepidation, having been startled by the sudden onslaught of light. The six stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into chuckles and giggles.

‘What a surprise seeing you here.’ Ron ventured. It appeared that over the course of the last couple of days the rocky truce between them – which had been formed after some disastrous encounters during the past year of University – had solidified to something friendlier but still nowhere near friendship or alliances. 

‘Mmhm. Real surprise...’ Sarcasm was evident in Pansy’s reply, but her smile that tilted up at the left told them she was joking. The group split up again, Hermione glued to the books, Ron following dutifully behind her and Neville scanning over the shelves and wandering off into the library. Pansy stuck close to her two boy friends that stood on either side of her, her arms hooked around theirs.

They walked deeper into the heart of the library for a moment before coming across a table with four chairs pushed in. They sat down, Pansy next to Blaise and Draco across from them. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other with thoughtful expressions.

Draco pulled out Harry’s journal from his bag, setting it down on the table. He stared at it for a moment in thought before opening it, flicking through pages before finding the one he wanted.

‘Frequently Harry mentions his visits to the Library and the kitchen. Other than those two areas only his private room is in good condition. I’ve been thinking about it, and considering he’s the only ghost we’ve come across... maybe it’s his influence – or his memories – that protected the rooms... as if... well... letting them decay was detrimental to his... health...’ Draco paused for a moment, wondering if what he was saying was making any sense. He looked up from the journal to gaze at his two friends, frowning. 

‘Maybe it’s because those three rooms were pretty much his life that they stayed the way they were when he died. Maybe that echo yesterday was one from the night before – or the day of – his death... Maybe... maybe... maybe this is too many maybes.’ Draco chuckled to himself, pulling out his own notebook and a pen, scribbling his theories down – a habit he had developed during his later years of high school after he discovered it was a good way to remember things. It was something Hermione did, something his friends use to tease him about until they discovered he wasn’t going to react the way they wanted him to. After all, knowledge is a powerful thing, so what if his ‘habit’ was slotting him under the category of nerd that that bushy haired girl practically made the name for. 

‘Maybe your maybes are right, Drake.’ Pansy smiled at her friend, leaning her chin in her open palms as she rested her elbows on the table. Blaise snorted, muttering to himself under his breath and behind his hand while trying to hide his smirk as well. Draco raised his eyes momentarily to glare at him.

‘Perhaps, Pans.’ He once again reached into his bag at his feet, pulling out Professor Snape’s book. He set it down on the table, sliding his fingers over it with care. It wasn’t as thick as some of the books he had picked up before while, although it did have somewhere around 350 pages. It was simply titled Ancient Ancestry in gold script across the black leather binding. 

Draco had read much of it on the Potter’s, as that was the reason Snape had lent the book, but there was still a little for him to read. He was pleasantly surprised about how much there was written on them, and also shocked that he didn’t think to search about the whole Family, not just the events around the early 1900’s – their History Assignment was about the mysterious events around Harry’s death and the disappearances and what their own theories about the events were. All six of them were given the task of this and other students in the class were assigned other Families. 

Although the book was written before the last Potters disappeared and died the information about the earlier members would be useful in some matters – like figuring out who the burnt out names on the tapestry were and who was in the portrait in the destroyed drawing room. 

‘You’ve read the book then?’ Blaise asked as he stared at the object Draco was fingering. Draco hummed a yes, tearing his gaze away from the book. Their eyes locked for a moment before Draco turned his gaze to Pansy.

‘You guys should read the part on the Potters. Pretty interesting bunch, really. There was a lot of disowning in the family. A few got kicked out for crimes; like murder or theft. Some others were disavowed for their beliefs; like one bloke who apparently joined a cult.

‘Also, it says that this house was built in 1864, although the land has been in this family for centuries. It was built where the old house stood, although that was lost in a fire along with what the book referred to as questionable documents.’ Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. He frowned, looking down at the closed book. ‘It’s probably best that you read it and take some notes. Some extra history about the family where necessary in your final assignment couldn’t hurt your ending result and it could also strengthen your theories.’

Pansy rolled her eyes at the mention of the assignment and anything to do with final results, knowing Draco’s inner-nerd was coming out again – although more recently than it ever use to, she took note. Blaise nodded, not seeming to pay much attention to some of Draco’s words about school although you could see his lip twitch slightly at the mention – a great commendation towards Blaise’s control over any outburst that could upset his friend even slightly.   
―∞―

The night so far had been relatively uneventful for the Golden trio. They had a few rattling doors – that they dared not touch – and some cold bursts of wind, which, like all the other times, were unexplainable. This hadn’t scared them all that much, as after the first time they were sort of expecting it and knew that nothing was going to jump out – unless, of course, the next one decided it wanted to be different, but let’s just say they just don’t think like that (or maybe they just chose not to).

Hermione sighed, leaning her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder. Her eyes scanned the spines of the books across from her, her torch light shining the way and making it possible for her. She was tired, but still amazed at how many books there were – the oldest one she came across was printed in 1584 called The Discoverie of Witchcraft, which she promptly took down from the shelf and bagged. She also tried to coax her friend and boyfriend into deeper research of the house and its occupants, but without the extra prompting from their Professor she didn’t really think too much about researching far back into the ancestry – mainly just a couple of generations or so, sticking to the great-grandparents and later. 

The night went along like this for a couple of hours until the time was heading towards 12am. The six students didn’t do much interacting with each other, but they all stuck around in the library. It seemed nothing was going to happen while they were there, as if the library was a safe haven for them like it was for Harry.  
―∞―

Draco sighed, shifting in his seat slightly as he flicked the page of Harry’s journal, re-reading much of what was written as if to find something new, something written between the lines. His eyes were starting to ache a little, and he was continually trying to stifle yawns – much like his two friends were. Blaise was getting ready to call it quits and start begging for Draco to take them home and he guessed Pansy would be on his side as well – seeing as the girl was sleeping in the crook of her arm. 

Draco shut the journal and rubbed at his eyes before looking over at his two friends. He sighed and put the journal away, setting his chin in his open palms – his elbows resting on the table top – after doing so. The silence was soon broken, Draco’s voice echoing around the quite Library.

‘Why don’t we go for a little walk before heading home?’ His question was greeted with two very eager nods, the owners of which soon hopped up and grabbed their belongings, waiting impatiently for Draco to hurry up.

As soon as Draco got up and began to follow them out rattling could be heard from the second floor. All three stopped and looked up, their pale faces illuminated by what looked like two people talking furiously – they glowed so bright in the darkness that their light could be seen reflecting palely of the farthest shelves from them. Ron, Hermione and Neville were watching also, no words were being issued from their mouths as they stared, entranced. Fear tingled in their veins as they watched what might have been an echo of the past or what could be two ghosts. Their voices drifted down to them, slightly broken up words.

‘... think you’ve been doing? ... horses... now the... You better ... be intending to cause harm... family...’ The conversation was muted for a moment, the on-lookers trying to decipher what was said and to try and figure out the peoples’ appearances. The other began to speak.

‘... my house... can do as I please! ... pathetic... stay out of my way... do anything... hurt... ‘ Slowly the figures faded, taking the warm and unnatural glow away from the dark library, leaving the occupants shocked and confused.

‘What the fuck just happened?!’ Pansy screeched, turning on her two friends for answers. Draco frowned, quickly whipping out his notebook and pen to jot down some notes on the broken sentences spoken between the two men. His frown deepened and hit nibbled on the end of the pen before turning to look at Blaise and Pansy.

‘I think that was... well... an echo, like yesterday in the kitchen.’ Blaise hummed in agreement, folding his arms across his chest. The three stared at each other for a moment.

‘Do you know the answer to like, fucking everything smarty pants?’

Draco smiled, eyes twinkling.

‘Maybe I do. Is that so bad?’


	4. Discoverie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm going to be finishing this story finally. I've started working on chapter 11, and I'm hoping this will only take me another three chapters to finish up after that. Hoping, being the key word.
> 
> Considering this was started in 2009, I can't say it's going to be amazing. You're going to start seeing some inconsistencies pop up from here on out, no doubt. Um, I'm really sorry. xD I can't bring myself to do much more than a skim of these chapters. I surprisingly still remember what I had planned for the end, so at least it shouldn't be tooooooooo bad. I'm hoping. Um, forgive meeeee~
> 
> I also can't promise it will be happy. So there is your warning, provided you read this. sorryyyyy again. :3

The night passed by with an exceedingly rushed pace. The group left the house soon after the echo ended; preferring to mull over the words in their separate groups and to get some much needed rest. The day was full of conversations, theories, notes, reading and arguments. No one strayed from their houses for long. Lunch was eaten in, as was dinner and any snack in between. They didn’t visit the Manor that night.

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly. Neville was asleep on the couch in her and Ron’s shared apartment, happy to be resting after a day away from anything mildly paranormal. Ron was in the kitchen, sifting through cabinets and cupboards for food. He grabbed a packet of chips and walked back into the living room, sitting down next to his tired girlfriend.

‘It’s bloody 11.23pm. We’ve been thinking about this all day. Why don’t you take a rest? Go to bed, watch some TV, do something other than this.’ The red head suggested, nudging her in the ribs. She grunted, nibbling on the end of her pencil, her brow furrowing with heavy creases as she glared at her notepad and nonsensical scribbles. Her notes had lost all meaning hours ago, but she refused to give up. What if she thought of something after she put her notepad away and lost her idea as soon as she opened it again?

‘Maybe later, Ron.’ She muttered around her pen, huffing slightly angrily at the thoughts running through her head. They had gone over every possible idea and theory today. Could it be a trick? A real haunted house? Something else? Hermione shook her head, reaching over to the coffee table and grabbing the collection of Shakespeare plays that she found in Harry’s room the other day – which seemed like ages ago, really. 

She flicked through it, eyes scanning the pages that she caught. They had, naturally, looked through it a couple of times now. Even shook it out, yet still nothing popped out at them. Could there be a clue within this crumpling, thin pages? She doubted it, now. Hermione paused in her flicking and stared at the pages from the play Merchant of Venice. Was she seeing things? Was she that tired? She frowned, leaning in closer.

‘... Kitchen, first cupboard on the right.’ Hermione frowned, looking up at her boyfriend. Ron blinked before returning his girlfriends gaze, their eyes meeting. He frowned, unsure. Hermione looked away, brow furrowing with thought for a moment before grabbing her pen again and writing a note on her notepad under a heading of ‘Shakespeare’s works’.

―∞―

Draco yawned, catching the tennis ball he had been throwing up into the air. Pansy was asleep in the spare bedroom down the hall, Blaise in the armchair across from him. The silence that was hanging in the air around them had not been broken for near an hour.

Over the day the dark trio had done similar things to the golden trio. They ate, thought, discussed and wrote notes. They hadn’t made much progress either. Blaise sighed, throwing his head back in exasperation.

‘Dra-co! Is that bloody brain of yours still thinking about this stupid mystery?’ He nearly yelled, grabbing his pen and throwing it at his friend. It hit him in the chest, jolting him from his thoughts. The blonde glared at his dark friend, grey eyes narrowing in annoyance. He sighed, sitting up and throwing his tennis ball in retaliation.

‘It freaking was until you bloody well interrupted it!’ Draco ground out at Blaise; his lack of sleep making him irritable. He rubbed at his sore eyes a moment, ignoring his friend’s laughter. He stared at his notes on the ground near his couch, running over things in his head.

‘Okay... so, there is a ghost, echoes, random paranormal events, a locked door, random rooms in perfect condition... God this is so fucking weird...’ The blonde mused, rubbing his face distractedly. Blaise rolled his eyes, chucking the tennis ball up and down. ‘And the ghost is a seventeen year old boy who was probably murdered...’

‘Draco. Let’s go to sleep. Think about it in the morning. You’ll be able to look at it differently then.’ Draco sighed at his friends ‘wisdom’, nodding his agreement he got up and left the room. ‘I’ll just go and share Pansy’s bed...’ Blaise muttered to himself, smirking slightly before turning off the light and practically bouncing down the hallway.

―∞―

The next morning Draco rose late, waking ahead of Blaise but after Pansy. His friend was in the kitchen, looking over Draco’s notes curiously while munching on an apple. She looked up as he came in and gave him a grin before turning back to the notebook. Draco grinned back before setting off to find food in his kitchen.

‘Blaise is, like, such a pervert.’ Pansy commented after a few minutes, giving Draco a pointed look. ‘Why didn’t you protect me from him last night? Like, he could have slept in your bed and you with me. At least then I like, know you won’t molest me or anything.’ She took a bite out of her mostly eaten apple after she spoke, watching Draco with curious eyes. Draco sighed, rolling his eyes before taking a seat across from Pansy, a banana he found in his hands.

‘I didn’t hear him say he was going to go into you’re room or anything. I truthfully didn’t think about where he was going to sleep. I was rather tired…’ Draco replied while peeling his banana. He took a bite out of it, giving her a grin. Pansy sighed overdramatically, rolling her eyes before finishing her apple and throwing it into the bin next to the fridge. Just as she did that Blaise walked in, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly.

‘Jesus, what time is it?’ He spoke through his yawn, sitting down at the table next to Draco and letting his head rest in his arms on the tabletop. Pansy shrugged, not bothering to look at the clock behind her. Draco sighed, looking up at the wall.

‘Almost eleven-thirty.’ Blaise sighed at the answer, wishing he was still in his warm bed, with an equally warm body next to him – although Pansy got out of there pretty quickly when she woke up at ten in the morning. ‘We going to the house today?’ Draco asked, finishing his banana and turning slightly to throw the skin in the bin.

‘I don’t think I’ll go today. I’ll do some other stuff around here. Maybe even look into finding a paranormal expert to have a little chat to.’ Blaise replied, sitting up in his chair properly. He folded his arms across his chest and gave a lazy grin to his friends. 

‘Sure… you better do that instead of sleeping then.’

‘Okay Pans!’ Blaise gave her a cheerful grin before jumping up and heading to the hallway. ‘I’m going to have a shower here Drake then head round to my place. Call me on my mobile if you need me!’ He waved as he exited, practically skipping down the hallway while singing in an overly cheerful voice ‘I’m going to cle-an!’

‘… Right. I completely forgot he acts like that in the morning after waking up…’

‘You’re not the only one, Drakey.’

―∞―

After Blaise had finished his shower, and headed out for whatever reason, Draco and Pansy had their own. Separately, of course. The day progressed until after lunch where the two friends proceeded to collect their theories and research before heading off to the Manor. They had no idea if any of the other group were going to be there – they wouldn’t have been bothered if they were – and would be happy as just the two of them exploring the house together. 

By the time they arrived at the house it was around 1.30 in the afternoon. They decided to get some cheap sandwiches from the deli and a bottle of water each for lunch – a late lunch – that they could eat on the steps leading up to the front doors of the Manor. After they did this they pushed open the heavy doors which decided to stay open and let the grey light coming through the clouds to swarm in. They didn’t put much thought into it and continued on.

‘I’m still awed every time I see that chandelier.’ Pansy murmured, staring up at it with her mouth slightly open. Draco nodded absentmindedly, his gaze focused on the staircase. He began walking in that direction, ignoring Pansy’s confused gaze. She shook her head and followed him, jogging a little to catch up. She grabbed his bicep, leaning her cheek on his shoulder for a moment before smiling up at him.

Draco glanced down at her and rolled his eyes. They walked in silence, not paying attention to where their feet were carrying them. A few minutes later found them staring at Harry’s door, blinking stupidly before swallowing their hesitation and pushing it open. The room was empty, void of any life – or non-living beings – as they stepped into it, gazing around themselves with wide eyes. 

‘He isn’t here…’ Was that the reason they walked here? To see if their Ghost had decided to… appear? Draco sighed, looking down at the foot of the bed. The room had changed since last they had been in here. The blankets were pooled on the ground at the foot of the bed. The windows and mirror were fixed and everything else was in their respective places. Pansy pouted as Draco pulled away from her.

The blonde walked hesitantly towards the bedding, pulling it up off the ground and folding it onto the bed. He stood for a moment before deciding to sit on it, staring blankly at the pale wall opposite him. Pansy fiddled with her bag strap for a moment before joining him.

‘What are you doing?’ The two friends jolted up at the sound of a new voice, turning their heads with wide eyes to gaze upon the slightly glowing form of Harry. Green eyes, messy dark brown hair, pale skin. He hadn’t changed. Not that Draco expected him to have – he was dead after all.

‘You… er… seem to be saying that a lot.’ Draco attempted to smile, shocked to see the boy so soon after giving him some pretty devastating news. Pansy had gone pale, her lips thin and eyes wide. She wisely chose not to say anything. 

Harry frowned, his curious gaze switching from Draco to Pansy. He took a few steps forward, towards the bed and away from the door.

‘Yes. I suppose. What are you two doing here? Where are your friends?’ His voice was small, melancholic, wispy almost. It certainly fit his appearance – svelte, with no real sign of muscle – not like Blaise or even Draco – very… effeminate, at least by Draco’s definition. 

‘Well… we’re doing a history assignment for university on this place, we’re here to do extra research. And our friend is elsewhere,’ probably getting laid… was muttered under Pansy’s breath with a role of her eyes. Slowly the tension in her frame left, making her look – and feel – more at ease with Harry.

‘I know you’re Draco… but what is your name?’ Harry asked, stepping forward again and standing in front of the two on the bed. Pansy smiled up at him, causing the Ghost to smile back.

‘I’m Pansy.’ A friendly atmosphere filled the room.

‘Good. We’re all friends now. Will you come visit me again after you leave?’ Harry asked, eagerness taking over his once suspicious and confused feelings. He seemed to have come to terms with the fact that he was dead – he had some suspicions, after all, but it was particularly crushing to find it true. After all, he never really lived, did he? And time just seemed to… melt into one long endless day here…

‘Of course we’ll come again.’ Draco replied, smiling sincerely up at the beautiful Ghost before him. Harry’s smile grew while Pansy’s became slightly sad. 

Draco…


	5. Discoverie - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the fact that I used the word "tryst" in this chapter. :3

‘Of course we’ll come again.’ Draco replied, smiling sincerely up at the beautiful Ghost before him. Harry’s smile grew while Pansy’s became slightly sad. 

‘Good, we have seen each other only twice and already I like you. This must be a good sign, yes?’ Harry asked as he leaned against the wall – which seemed slightly odd, wasn’t he ethereal? The outsiders shook it from their thoughts, concentrating on the boy before them and not the circumstances around him. Draco nodded, his smile showing his perfect teeth as he rested his hands on his sturdy knees. He seemed to lean forward as his eyes travelled down the bed-clothed body before him, obviously entranced by the slight glow to the pale skin and white clothes. 

Harry blushed under his scrutiny, lowering his eyes and smiling sweetly to himself. Pansy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest and diverting her gaze to the right – towards the door out of the room. She smirked; but on the inside she was melting, who knew a seventeen year old boy could be so adorable? 

‘Please excuse me for my clothes… I…’ Harry sighed, cutting off his apology. Pansy frowned sadly at this, knowing what he was hinting at – he couldn’t change, he was dead after all.

With the mood of the room taking a serious nose dive Draco turned to look at Pansy, he frowned, noting her sad demeanour. He sighed before turning back to Harry, his expression softening slightly to a slightly morose one.

‘Are you two… together?’ Harry ventured, fiddling with the hem of his night-shirt. It was his attempt at lightening the mood – and for the sake of his curiosity. Draco chuckled and Pansy giggled, smiles back on their faces as they thought of the disgusting imagery that when with the thought – yet they smile?

‘No. We’re not together. We’re like, just the best of friends. It’d be like being with a brother – simply too gross and bloody illegal.’ Pansy giggled again, smiling mischievously up at the Ghost still leaning against the wall.

 

‘Did you ever have any trysts with a girl?’ Draco asked bravely, knowing full well it could bring up the sad thought of being dead – or that the girl was dead and he’d never see her again. Harry just smiled with a blush dusting his cheeks, shaking his head and causing his dark brown hair to shake about. Draco thought he was cutest this way, making a silent pact with himself to make the boy blush more often – bringing some colour to his mostly black, grey and white appearance would do the young man some good, he told himself.

‘… Did you ever have any trysts with a man?’ Draco asked slowly, smirking as Pansy playfully slapped his thigh with a cry of ‘Draco!’. Harry’s blush, on the other hand, deepened, but the boy shook his head furiously, twisting his hands into his shirt in an effort to either shield himself or to alleviate some of his embarrassment. Draco chuckled darkly, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

‘H-have you… ever?’ Harry shyly asked, his voice quiet as he brought his clenched and joined hands up to his mouth, peering over the top of them at Draco. The blonde just grinned and nodded.

‘I’ve been with both genders. Prefer men though.’ Harry blushed even harder at this.

‘I cannot believe I’m having a… a… a conversation with you about this!’ Harry bemoaned, burying his face into his hands. Draco outright laughed while Pansy just grinned before looking away. She frowned sadly though as soon as she diverted her gaze from the pair, seeing quite clearly what was going on before her.

‘I think I left something in the car. I’ll be back in a while.’ Pansy stood abruptly, smiling at the two young men before swiftly exiting the room. 

―∞―

Pansy sighed sadly, shutting the door gently behind her. She knew what was happening to poor Draco, she could see it so clearly. Her best friend was obsessed with discovering what happened to this boy and by doing so he was slowly, unconsciously, falling in love with him. The ghost of a dead boy. No good could come of this.

She felt tears pricking her eyes as she made her way down the hall towards the stairs, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts centred on a looming tragedy. The floor didn’t creak and shudder under her feet as she descended the stairs, the unusual lack of noise not penetrating the haze that was her mind. Pansy paused at the bottom of the stairs, wiping away a stray tear as she glanced around the entrance hall nervously.

Footsteps echoed across the slate flooring, quietly at first before becoming louder the closer they seemed to get. Pansy stared in the direction it sounded to be coming from, a shiver of fear slicing down her spine. The sound paused, causing Pansy to strain her hearing to hear it, before it came back again, heading in the direction it came from. Pansy considered the situation for a moment before clinging to her bag and following after it.

The minutes seemed to trickle by, Pansy’s heart pounding loudly in her ears as she followed the sound, wondering if perhaps this was a bad idea. She continued on though, her curiosity winning out over her common sense. She soon found herself walking down the hall that lead towards the locked door, trepidation filling her up as she thought about what this could mean. 

Four meters in front of her the air seemed to darken, a grey sort of smoke swirling in the middle of the hallway. Pansy squeaked, her hands covering her mouth as she jumped back, freezing in her steps as she stared at the slowly forming dark shape. She whimpered quietly as it created a vaguely human form before it walked onwards, the footsteps it somehow created echoing of the walls, a distant sound as if it were a fading memory.

Pansy forcefully lowered her shaking hands, biting her lip in agitation as her eyes began to water. She took deep calming breaths as she hesitated before to follow the... spirit. Her own footsteps were quiet; the rubber soles of her old tennis shoes were muffling her footfalls. Her fingers curled around the strap of her messenger bag, twisting the material to try and divert some of her rising fear.

The smoky black form halted in its progress down the hall, its vaguely human head turning to face the door it stopped in front of. Pansy gasped, pausing for a moment before darting into a windowed alcove. She peered around the edge at the ghostly form, dimly noticing through her hazed mind that the door was the one Draco and her discovered was locked. 

Her tingling fear twisted in her gut, making it known once more as the figure appeared to look around before fazing through the door. Pansy let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding in, her posture relaxing. She leaned back against the wall, resting her head back and closing her eyes. She took deep breaths before her eyes flickered open and she headed back towards the entrance hall – deciding that it was better that if she was with Draco for anymore adventures, thank-you very much.

―∞―

Harry and Draco had a less frightening experience while Pansy was away. The two had some interesting conversations about each other’s lives – discovering, coincidently, that the Malfoys‘ were actually a friend of his family, although not so close that Harry ever really met Draco’s great-grandfather. But then again... Harry was confined to his room, and two others, for practically the entirety of his life – except that one time when his mother wanted a family portrait taken outside, not in some other part of their Manor.

Draco, during their conversation, had grown the urge to ask his newfound friend if he knew who killed him. He would’ve asked if he wasn’t so afraid of the young man becoming upset and running – disappearing was more likely – out of there. Harry had ended up sitting on the bed with his legs crossed and Draco in a similar position in front of him; both boys were facing each other.

The conversation lulled for a moment, both boys looking at each other with unveiled curiosity.

‘Harry... I don’t want to upset you but... do you know who killed you?’ Draco ventured tentatively, his expression one of worry; worry if he would cause this beautiful boy even more pain. What would it have been like to be alone for all these years? Draco couldn’t possibly fathom it.

Harry sighed, diverting his gaze to the floor next to his bed, his hands fiddling with the white pants he wore as his sleep-clothes. A few minutes seemed to pass and Draco regretted his curious nature, opening his mouth to apologise before Harry’s gaze snapped to him, his green eyes sure and unwavering as he answered his question.

‘No. I don’t know. I woke up in the cellars.’ Draco nodded his understanding, wishing he could lay a hand of support on this boy. Unfortunately, well, he couldn’t. His eyes surveyed the body before him again – this time, though, it was not a look of appraise – and took in the ghostly aspects it possessed. Draco could see through him, although he looked more solid if you looked more towards the centre of his body. This didn’t mean that Draco could see through the young man very well, it just meant that he could, if he looked that far, see through him. Harry’s skin glowed slightly, his dark brown hair was tussled and his bright green eyes were almost the only bit of colour on his ghostly form. They looked so alive, Draco noted sadly before sighing and shaking his head.

‘I wish this never happened to you. You deserved a better life.’ Harry blushed at this, giving Draco a weak smile. Draco gave him a small smile in return; his grey eyes exposing how much he meant these words.

‘But Draco, I would never have met you otherwise.’

―∞―

Blaise rubbed at his temples in agitation, groaning audibly and closing his eyes aggressively. He could not believe what a waste this day had been. He had searched the internet for any listed paranormal experts in this part of England, asked around with a few of the people he knew liked the paranormal at the University campus and even went so far as to go on a few interesting forums to ask around there just in case. Yet, here he was, paranormal expert-less. 

He sighed, leaning back in his chair at Ruby’s, thanking the waitress as she placed down his ordered coffee. He had told himself he needed a break about half an hour ago, after all, he was working hard and he deserved it. 

Blaise sat up as he reached for his coffee, leaning forward slightly as he took a tentative sip. He sighed in contentment, enjoying the taste of his favourite diner’s best coffee. While drinking he went over his next course of action. Should he give up and tell the guys it was impossible, or should he continue on and battle his way through all the impossibilities and achieve greatness?

For a few minutes Blaise mulled over this before shaking his head and deciding that it just was not worth the trouble. He smiled and continued to drink his coffee.

‘Wonder if the guys are having fun at the Manor...’ He chuckled at the thought, guessing that nothing was showing up and they were bored out of their minds and that Pansy was close to killing Draco for his sarcastic comments. Or that perhaps Draco was close to pushing Pansy out of one of the second storey windows for the way she seems to find an inappropriate place for ‘like’ all the time. Blaise continued to chuckle to himself for a few minutes, picturing the many different arguments the two could have.

‘What are you laughing about to yourself?’ A dreamy voice broke Blaise’s thoughts, causing the dark skinned young man to jump slightly – but not out of fright, of course. He blinked owlishly up at the blonde girl standing near his table in the diner, slowly taking in her odd appearance. 

Around her neck she had an assortment of charms on a few chains, ranging from several different crosses to four leaf clovers and ankhs. Her clothes were the oddest part about her. She had a dark blue baggy coat that was open over a form fitting red sweater, a knee length pleated green and brown skirt with a brighter blue than the coat stockings. Around her waist she had two belts, one that had a pocket like thing with a semi-thick book in it and on the other was an assortment of pouches. She wore worn and dirty boots on her feet that went up her calves, and around her head she wore what looked like a material (woollen) headband that didn’t really do much for her except keep part of her head warm.

Blaise blinked slowly, his jaw slightly slack as he finished his inspection of the young blonde woman. She took it upon herself by this time to sit down opposite him in the booth, placing her pale, delicate hands on the table.

‘Who are you?’ He asked slowly, unsure about how to approach this new situation, a situation he was not sure he really wanted to be in. The girl just smiled dreamily, her eyes seeming to be a little unfocused – or at least just not settling on him but instead on a distant, probably non-existent, object.

‘My name is Luna Lovegood. What’s your name?’ Her eyes focused on him at this, an intelligent gleam in them as she observed him with interest.

‘I’m Blaise. Blaise Zabini.’ Luna nodded as if she knew and he was just confirming her suspicions. She ‘hmmed’ quietly, diverting her gaze to her hands as she tapped her fingers on the table top, contemplating a thought for a moment. Blaise took his coffee cup into his hands and took a sip, grimacing before spitting it back into his cup.

‘Cold...’ He whimpered sadly to himself while this Luna continued to contemplate.

‘You’re looking for a paranormal enthusiast.’ Her wispy voice broke his mourning, capturing his attention as he snapped his gaze up to the mysterious girl before him. Blaise nodded, hoping against hope that this girl was what he had spent the last two and a half hours looking for – mind you, this was a long time to the usually busy and entertained young man.

‘Well... you’re looking right at one.’

―∞―

‘Hey Pansy! Guess what?’ Pansy sighed into the phone, rolling her eyes heavenward as she stood outside Harry’s room.

‘What Blaise?’ She asked with a sliver of humour in her voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she pushed the most recent event out of her mind for the time being.

‘I’ve found us a paranormal enthusiast! Her name’s Luna Lovegood and she’s willing to help us with the manor.’ Pansy smiled at this, excited about the prospect of finding out something about why everything was going on. She shivered as the hallway temperature dropped a little, glancing down the hallway hesitantly. 

‘That’s great Blaise! So this, like, means we can hopefully find out some stuff about this place! Maybe she, like, even knows a bit about this place from what other paranormal guys have said, or maybe she’s even like been here before!’ 

‘Now Pans, calm down before you excite yourself too much. We don’t want you waking anymore ghosts, okay?’ Pansy huffed, muttering swear words through the phone before hanging up on her friend. She shoved her phone back into her bag before walking into Harry’s room, smiling warmly at the two boys on the bed.

‘Have fun while I was gone boys?’ She giggled, sitting herself on the floor against the wall near the bed. Harry nodded, smiling widely at the girl, while Draco smirked and winked saucily. 

‘Lots of fun, Pans. Lots.’ Harry blushed at the cheeky look Draco was giving him. The atmosphere in the room was so comfortable the three almost forgot the fact that one of them was a ghost and that they were in an old, haunted Manor. Pansy shocked herself with this thought, once again sad about the circumstances. ‘If only’ were two words that she found herself using a lot.


	6. Ships

It was now nearing the end of the first week that the group had spent ‘investigating’ the Manor, a week of late nights and over analysing every possible thing. Blaise had introduced Luna to the entire group the night before and everything went down as well as could be expected. Not much was discussed in the way of theories and discoveries but at least there weren’t many arguments between both friendship groups. 

‘So guys... do you think this Luna will be of any help to us?’ Hermione asked, twisting around in her seat to face both boys. Ron was driving and cast a glance over at his girlfriend, considering his opinion on the matter before replying. Neville was staring out the window in the back seat, seemingly unaware of the new conversation, his thoughts centred on something else – or maybe something similar.

‘Yeh, she looked like the type to know those sorta things. Real weird and funny...’ Ron replied after a moment or two contemplation – or as much as the red head could contemplate – earning himself a look from his girlfriend. He didn’t see it though as he focused on the road.

The three in the car were heading towards the Manor to meet up with the rest of the people – and probably Luna as well – to discuss some more things and to embark on their own little exploration. They didn’t visit the Manor yesterday and Hermione was having withdrawal symptoms. 

Hermione cast Neville a glance, expecting him to have a comment on their discussion. She frowned when she noticed her friend was not paying her any attention – although it could have just been because she was a little worried about his dazed expression.

‘Anything the matter Neville?’ She asked, turning in her seat a little more and ignoring her seatbelt. She looped her arms around the headrest, leaning her cheek against it as she watched the young man closely. Neville seemed to wake up from his thoughts and blink slowly before turning his head towards Hermione – who was seated in front of him. He frowned a little before registering her question and replying.

‘I’m fine. Just thinking about Luna...’

‘You think she’s a weirdo too, ey Nev?’ Ron grinned at Neville through the rear view mirror, causing Neville to frown again. He shook his head before voicing his reply.

‘No. I don’t think she’s weird. She’s unique and very interesting.’ Ron blinked, dazed, for a few moments, his gaze directed out of the windshield. He frowned, his brow wrinkling in thought – in confusion, really. He switched his vision to Neville in the rear view mirror for a moment, looking at him with curiosity.

‘Do you like the girl?’ He asked slowly, eyes switching back and forth between the road towards the Manor and Neville. Neville himself stubbornly looked away, becoming shy. He worried his lip between his teeth for a moment, ignoring Hermione’s inquisitive eyes.

‘No. I don’t like her like you mean. She’s nice and interesting.’ It sounded… convincing, to an extent. Hermione’s expression changed to a smile, a smile that was screaming ‘I think I know what you really think’.

―∞―

They slowed down as they pulled into the driveway leading to the old Manor, Neville and Hermione gazing out the windows at the full canopy and branches and leaves over head. The gravel, leaves and twigs crunched under the slow turning of the wheels, Ron taking his time on driving down the road so he could look out the windshield to the sky as well. 

Hermione was getting excited, hoping to find something interesting in the kitchen and hoping against hope that she could see the Ghost again. After all, last time she only saw him for a few hurried moments. Oh, she wanted to know if she could have a conversation with him! And if he knew any of Shakespeare’s works well enough to have a good little chat with him! Her heart fluttered with excitement, a grin forming on her face.

Neville grew nervous, his hands fidgeting with his shirt hem, picking at a loose thread as he let his thoughts wander about all the possibilities that could arise from this visit. He knew he could have just told them he didn’t want to go, and that they would tell him about what happened and what they learned but… He also felt the need to go today. Neville sighed, trying to calm himself. He had to admit though; he was more scared about seeing Luna today that he was another Ghost or echo. 

The car pulled to a stop outside the Manor and the group went about the usual routine of getting out and closing the doors before heading inside. This visit lacked the usual awe of the surroundings as they simply walked over to one side of the Entrance Hall – towards the left with the Kitchen.

The group stood in silence for around ten or fifteen minutes, all silently contemplating the day and certain areas they might like to visit again. They were getting a bit restless when the main object of their waiting opened the front doors and stepped in.

Neville’s eyes followed the eccentric Luna Lovegood as she crossed the room towards them, her bright orange trench coat swishing around her thighs as she did so. Inside his heart was racing in the uneven beat of attraction, his palms sweating slightly as she stopped in front of the three of them. He blushed as red as a tomato – for reasons unknown to his friends and Luna – and cast his shy gaze to the slate floor.

Luna smiled sweetly to the group, her calm blue stare gliding over the Golden Trio. No one spoke for a moment as everyone seemed to smile at one another – save Neville who was still assessing the flooring.

‘Hello Neville, Hermione, Ron. How are you this morning?’ Luna asked, her expression stuck in a sweet smile that seemed to make Neville’s calming heart beat even faster – and more out of rhythm – as soon as he looked up to reply with his own niceties. Instead, all that seemed to occur was a small – almost silent – gasp. Neville stood stock still for a moment with his mouth a gape until Ron and Hermione greeted the unique girl – which snapped him out of hi Luna-induced daze.

‘Hello Luna.’

‘… Hey… Luna…’

Silence descended on the group again, with Neville focused on the large chandelier in the centre of the room before the staircase. Luna followed his gaze and seemed to take it in for a moment.

‘That is a nice chandelier… I hope a poltergeist doesn’t knock it down while someone’s under it.’ Luna commented, her dreamy voice washing over Neville. Ron went pale at the idea of the glass crystals and iron rigging falling on him – or Neville or Hermione – and gave a silent vow to stay away from it (and under it, of course) whenever possible. Hermione, like her usual self, just stared at it in curiosity and tried to assess if it looked like it could fall that easily – she figured it was a possibility.

The group of four decided to take it to the stairs, sitting in a small semi-circle so they could see and talk to each other easily. They proceeded to have discussions about their theories with Luna, enlightening her about more of the events that had occurred in the Manor – the ones she didn’t learn about last night.

‘So, practically we’ve just been haunted by Ghosts. Cold touches of wind, strangely clean and undamaged rooms, Harry the Ghost…’ Hermione paused for a moment. ‘We were walking down a corridor the other day and a horrible smell wafted down from above us, as well as dripping sounds.’ Her brow furrowed, her gaze shifting to her hands. ‘Are these the kind of things you encounter often?’

Luna smiled softly, tilting her head to the side slightly and contemplating her answer. Ron rolled his eyes, hating the fact that they were relying on this loon’s opinion. Obviously there were Ghosts, so what was the need to have her here?

‘This seems to be more concentrated than usual… usually the apparitions are unfocused, but by what you’ve said they seem to be almost corporeal. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were dealing with the work of some sort of darker forces.’ Ron scoffed loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. Hermione frowned at him, elbowing him in the gut in an effort to make him stay quiet and respect her. Luna didn’t seem to notice – or she didn’t really care.

Their conversations continued along these lines for a while as they waited for Draco and his group to arrive.

―∞―

Draco sighed as he got out of his car, his two friends following his lead as they walked into the Manor. The three of them made sure that had what they needed for the entire day (it was only 9.25 and they planned on staying here for as long as they could stand) and a little bit extra just in case. They glanced around the Entrance Hall after noticing the Golden Trio opposite them on the stairs.

As soon as the new arrivals walked further into the hall the doors slammed behind them, causing them to jump and swivel around. The seven of them were silently confused at this event. It had happened before, the doors closing on their own (they were large and heavy) but they never slammed like they had.

Pansy huffed, walking up to them and trying to open them. She stepped back after failing, staring apprehensively at them.

‘They… like… won’t open.’ She turned back to the group, shrugging helplessly. Blaise frowned, heading in for his own try but failing miserably. Hermione took out her phone and checked her reception. The screen was full of static and unreadable but she attempted to dial a number anyway. She frowned, only hearing buzzing and strange noises.

‘My phone’s not working.’ She stated after she gave up, putting her phone away and looking at each individual with confusion. The rest checked their own phones and they only received the same result.

‘I suppose we’re going to be staying here for a while. What kind of supplies have you guys got? We had planned on staying here for a while today but brought extra food in case we decided to stay the night or something…’ Draco stated, shifting his belongings in his bag around for a moment and checking what he did have. A lot of food, he noticed. That’s pretty good.

Hermione and her friends checked their own bags. ‘We have a bit of food, probably enough for today and a bit of tomorrow.’

‘So… we won’t last long then.’ Draco chuckled at the situation, rubbing his nose slightly. ‘I suppose we’ll have to check the water. See if that’s decent and still going.’

Hermione nodded in agreement before lapsing into thought. ‘The kitchen… it was… in perfect condition. No decay or damage… Do you think… do you think that that stretched to the food they kept as well?’ The group seemed to consider this thought for a moment before deciding to check it out later.

―∞―

The group continued to talk for a few more minutes before splitting up. Luna went with the Golden trio who wanted to visit Harry’s rooms again and Pansy wanted to drag her mates to the locked door. Her curiosity was killing her, even if her fear and common sense were trying to talk her out of this there was no way she was letting them win.

Ron opened the door to Harry’s room, hesitantly stepping in and looking straight at the bed. There was no one there. He led his friends and Luna into the room, Hermione thoroughly curious and interested in the space.

‘So this is where Harry practically lived?’ Luna questioned, casting her gaze around the room, taking in every detail. She frowned slightly, eyes landing on the bed. ‘You said when you first came in here there was blood on the bed, but now there isn’t?’ Hermione switched her inquisitive gaze to the fresh, crisp sheets and covers on the bed. She frowned.

‘There was... We’ll probably have to ask Draco if they were bloody yesterday, to get an estimation of when they might have changed – and how.’ She cast her gaze to the clean floorboards, her brow furrowing further. No stains. How strange.

‘Yes. Maybe that would be a good idea.’ Luna smiled sweetly at Hermione before turning her gaze to Neville – who presently was staring unabashedly at the blonde. He blushed and looked away, missing the knowing twinkle in Luna’s eyes.

―∞―

It was lunchtime – the time the group had planned to meet up again – and the seven of them stood outside the kitchen. Draco, Hermione noted, looked a little upset, but the other two – Pansy and Blaise – looked as happy as they were that morning before they were locked in. She ‘hmmed’ to herself before following Ron into the kitchen.

Ron went straight to what looked like the pantry. He opened it and looked around before grabbing a packaged object – which he soon discovered was cereal – and opening it. He pulled a small handful out and peered down at it. No mould... it smelt okay... Ron frowned before sticking a small piece of it in his mouth and chewing. 

‘Holy crap... it’s not stale, it’s not fucking mouldy and it tastes fucking okay.’ The two groups stared at him for a moment, both in disbelief and astonishment. Draco frowned before walking up to the tall redhead, dipping his own hand into the box and taking a bit of the cereal out. He ate a bit, shocked that Ron was right.

‘What the fuck is going on here...’

―∞―

After a lunch of cereal – and going through what else is edible and setting it out in categories for tomorrow and the days after just in case they where there for a while – the groups split up again. Luna went with the Golden trio once again – to Neville’s pleasure – and the group set off for the Library.

―∞―

‘Who are you three? I’ve seen you before, you were the first people to enter my rooms, but we’ve never formally met.’ Harry began, breaking the tense silence. He cast his eyes upon Luna. ‘And I’ve never seen you before.’ He added, moving to sit on one of the vast Library’s chairs. He sat down, looking at them pointedly.

Hermione hesitated before taking a seat down opposite the Ghost, Luna and Neville following her lead. Ron chose to stand behind his girlfriend, his watchful blue gaze upon the curiosity before them. Luna smiled comfortingly before speaking first.

‘My name is Luna Lovegood. I’m a paranormal expert. And you’re nothing like I’ve ever seen before.’ She began with interest, her dreamy voice betraying her curiosity and excitement. Hermione smiled broadly.

‘I’m Hermione, this is Ron,’ she gestured to the young man behind her, ‘and this is Neville.’ She rested her hands on the table, her fingers restlessly tapping away at it as her bright eyes watched Harry with certain and clear interest. Harry smiled shyly back.

‘I’m Harry, as you probably know...’

―∞―

It was well after ten when the Golden Trio decided to call it a night and find a place to sleep. They had many conversations with Harry – not just about his life but about what life was like now, about their lives, about families, school, friends and trends. They found themselves drawn to the teenager and after only a few hours of getting to know him they already felt like they were good friends; like they could have been the best of friends if Harry was alive or if they were born back in 1896. They felt like they should have been friends or that maybe they even were at one stage, during a time before their current lives.

Harry left them to find a room to stay in – they declined trying to share Harry’s small bed, if felt wrong. So here they were, searching the dark corridor for a room Neville remembered seeing once of their searches.

‘I’m sure it was down here. It had six beds, so it was probably a servant quarters.’ He smiled at the group, his grip strong on his torch. The temperature was dropping steadily as they headed down the corridor; towards the second story Library entrance (this floor only had one). He exhaled heavily, his eyes drooping before belatedly noticing that his breath frosted before him. ‘It’s... freezing down here, guys.’

‘We must be in the presence of a strong spirit, or a lasting impression created a long time ago by one of this Manor’s inhabitants...’ Luna spoke excitedly, shifting her video camera slightly – after all, she wasn’t going to waste this experience by not recording it. She looked at the small flipped out screen, surveying the dark hallway lit by dulled torch beams. ‘Hmm...’

Neville watched Luna curiously, unaware to Hermione who was gazing at him with a knowing expression before turning away with a sly smile. She pushed open a door, shining her torch into the freezing room and looking around it. 

‘Is this the room you were talking about Nev?’ It was long and bare, with six beds – three lining each wall. There were trunks at the end of each bed, slightly impeding the walkway down the centre. The room was relatively in good shape – the wallpaper was peeling and the bed frames appeared to be rotting slightly. Neville nodded.

‘Yeh, this is the room. I wonder if the mattresses will be in a good enough condition.’ Neville commented, looking a little unsure. Ron chewed his lip at this before walking in and taking the surprisingly in good condition blankets of one of the beds. He reached down and pushed on the mattress.

‘They’re really hard...’ He muttered, not feeling any dampness. Ron sat down on it before sniffing his hand. ‘They smell okay, and they don’t feel damp. I suppose they’ll do for now.’ Luna nodded, walking over to the bed opposite Ron’s. She sat down, silently claiming it as her own. Hermione smiled to herself as Neville took the one beside hers before taking the one next to Ron’s.

‘I suppose we’ll sleep here then.’  
―∞―

At the same time Draco and the others where searching for their own beds for the night. Pansy shivered, clinging tighter to Draco.

‘Did you feel that?’ She whispered, looking over at Blaise who was walking stoically next to her. He gazed down at her worried gaze before nodding. She whimpered, grabbing his arm with her spare hand, tugging him into her. ‘Stay close to me guys...’ Blaise smirked, turning his face away from her to hide it.

‘We’re not going anywhere, Pans, trust me.’ Draco commented absently, turning a doorknob with difficultly – as Pansy was impeding him –and pushing it open. He shone is torch – with a little less difficulty than his doorknob turning – around the room, exposing an extremely large bed in the centre of the room. He glanced at his two friends, shrugging slightly before leading them in there to check if it was okay.

It was in much the same condition as what the Golden trio had found. Suitable for now.

‘I suppose this is where we’ll sleep guys. You don’t mind sharing, do you?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just... I hope it's all enjoyable to read guys. I really want to finish it, because I think it'll make me feel better, y'know? And I really want to get back into fanfiction writing. 
> 
> Probably not Harry Potter though. But, I have a soft spot for this story, so I hope it's all good. I hope you like it.


	7. Encompass

Pansy woke slowly. Her eyes blurred for a moment as she opened them before she rubbed them with her hand, clearing them. She yawned, shifting herself so she could sit up. She was in the middle of the boys with Blaise haphazardly having thrown his arm across her during the night. Draco was facing away from them. Pansy smiled slightly, slowly remembering the circumstances of their sleeping arrangements. It had been a while (a long while) since the three of them had shared a bed on any occasion. Leaning over slightly, she shook Draco’s shoulder, waking him up effectively. He yawned, mumbling to himself and slowly sitting up.

“G’mornin’ Pans…” He muttered, rubbing his eyes. He leaned over her and smacked Blaise on the back of his head, causing him to wake suddenly.

“What the fuck?! Jesus fuck Draco!” He growled, lunging over Pansy to attack Draco. Instead, the two boys fell off the bed, landing hard on the wooden floor. Pansy started laughing into her hands, trying to muffle them so the boys wouldn’t start attacking her next. Draco and Blaise wrestled on the floor for a moment before tiring and giving up. They lay panting before getting up. Draco smoothed down his clothes and Blaise ruffling his hair to try and fix it. Pansy calmed down, huffing slightly on the bed. She slowly pulled herself out from under the dusty covers, getting off the old mattress and standing on the floor. She put her hands on her hips, eyeing the two boys for a moment.

“Since we, like, didn’t get a chance yesterday… let’s go visit Harry!” She squeaked excitedly, throwing her hands up into the air and dancing around.

―∞―

The three sat leaning against the bed in Harry’s room, all facing the door with the friendly Ghost across from them. Draco had a wide grin on his face that was mirrored by Harry, Blaise looked interested but tired (he didn’t sleep too well last night, kept on thinking about blood and ghosts) and Pansy was giggling (near insanely) to herself and inner-commentary.

“I heard from Hermione and Ron and their friends that you guys where all locked in.” Harry spoke, looking at them all with a slightly sheepish expression. He twisted his nightshirt in between his hands, watching his friends closely. “They also said you were all prats.” Draco’s smile faltered, unsure how to proceed with a statement like that. It wasn’t often he really cared what a person thought, after all.

“We are, sometimes… But they can be just as bad as us as well.” He paused… shifting his gaze to his hands. “And yeh, we’re all stuck here. But at least now we can spend a lot of time with you.” Draco changed the conversation back to Harry’s original statement, peering up at the Ghost through his – sadly – messy blonde fringe. Harry smiled at him, trying to cheer him up a little. But he didn’t try to change the topic back.

“I don’t want you all to be stuck here though. Have you got any food and water?”

“The food in the kitchen is surprisingly good. And the water works too. Not overly coppery or rusty.” Blaise replied, a little unsure about their Ghostly companion. Pansy shifted and leaned against Blaise’s shoulder, her giggling having stopped a while ago. Blaise moved his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. Harry eyed the actions with something a kin to jealously.

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want my new friends dying on me.” He chuckled, his smile changing to something playful. He eyed Draco, surveying him with interest. The blonde watched him back, smiling warmly. 

“Guys, I really want to go check out that door I saw that… shadow thing go through yesterday. Do you want to come with us Harry?” Pansy spoke up as she noticed the conversation was lulling – and that two of her boys were going to zone out looking at each other. Wouldn’t want to let them embarrass themselves in front of Blaise. He’d make fun of them for a millennia.

“Sure. I’d love to go with you guys.”

“Then it’s a date.” Blaise chuckled, squeezing Pansy slightly who squeaked indignantly. 

―∞―

Harry stood curiously to the side of the group as Blaise checked the door. It was pretty solid except for the fact that the door knob was rusting and that green stuff creeping up from under it. Blaise stepped back, putting his hands on his hips as he gave the door a once over. He hmmed, furrowing his brow.

“You don’t mind if I knock this thing down do you?” Blaise tilted his head to ask Harry, who only shrugged in return. “Good.” He scrutinized it once more before turning on his side to. He readied himself, steadying his shoulder before ramming himself against it. Holding back a slight wince, he steadied himself and went for another try. The door cracked, moving slightly inwards – the door knob breaking from the rust.

Blaise gave it another shot before the door gave. He stood back, rubbing his shoulder.

“Remind me never to do that again.” Pansy giggled before pushing the door further open and taking a tentative step in. She shuffled through her bag for a torch, quickly finding one and turning it on. Stairs led down to a shadow enshrouded door that stood slightly open. She gave the three boys a glance, curiosity and slight fear masking their faces. Draco shrugged, nudging past Pansy with his own torch. He began the descent down, minding steps that appeared to be about to break. Harry followed after him, his opalescent body lighting the small staircase to a degree.

Pansy and Blaise followed after them, keeping their eyes glued to the dangerous stairs. Draco pushed the door open fully, peering around it into a large room with three doors on each wall. He stepped into the room fully, shining his torch around and taking in some of the objects within the new room. 

“It’s a cellar…” He murmured, walking up to a wine shelf. He shifted his torch into his left hand, pulling out a wine bottle with his right. He managed to brush away the dust from its label, reading the year. “1899… God that’s old.” Draco slid it back onto its shelf.

“Wonder where these doors lead.” Blaise spoke, eyeing the heavy metal door before him. “If this doesn’t open I’m not going to ram my poor shoulder into it…”

“Oh be a man!” Pansy giggled, playfully pushing Blaise’s shoulder. He chuckled back at her, grabbing her and pulling her against his side. 

―∞―

Hermione woke suddenly, a strange noise reaching her ears. She sat up, looking around the dark room. Turning to Ron, she woke him up with a quick shove. He mumbled incoherently and sat up, rubbing his eyes and turning to face his girlfriend. Only then did the strange gurgling and keening noise reach his ears.

“What’s that?” She whispered to him, her eyes wide and goosebumps prickling along her skin. She shivered, afraid to look around again. The room was pitch black, nothing penetrating it. Ron shrugged, glancing around with squinting eyes to try and permeate the blackness. If the situation was any different Hermione might have laughed at her boyfriend – squinting?

Across the room Neville and Luna began to wake as the noise grew louder. Luna sat up quickly, Neville soon following her actions. He gasped, growing fearful.

“What t-the hell guys..?” He whispered, his voice shaking and he pulled his scant covers off of himself. He grabbed his bag from the ground, hugging it to his body. The other three grabbed their own bags, sliding them onto shoulders or holding them close. Silent commands were given to leave the room, an understanding none – not even the paranormal expert – where going to stand up against. Just as they stood the lights on the roof flickered – Oh, so the electricity works too? – before darkness falling again. They saw nothing, fearfully glancing around as the noise continued – was it forming words? Help… elp… hel… 

Hermione’s breathing became heavy as fear doubled in her stomach, her boyfriend holding her close to his chest. Luna and Neville stumbled closer to one another, sweat breaking out on Neville’s hands and underarms. Luna’s eyes watered, her hand shooting out and gripping onto Neville’s forearm. 

The lights flickered again. Hermione screamed, looking away and pulling her boyfriend towards the door. His eyes widened in fear as they caught sight of a woman, her skin greening from decomposition, her throat slashed. Her clothes were dirty and torn, arms hanging limp at her sides and head lolling on her shoulders.

Luna’s scream was caught in her throat, her line of sight blocked as Neville dragged her out of there. Clotting blood was leaking down the maid’s front – from her mouth and destroyed throat – and onto the floor, creeping towards them with a smell ten times worse than what they smelt the other night.

They reached the door, wrenching it open and lunging out. Ron slammed it closed behind them, all of the gasping for breath or sobbing with fear. Hermione clung to Ron, burying her head into his chest. Neville and Luna stood clinging to each other, eyes wide and fearful. The moved away from the door, casting it wary looks full of uncertainty and fear.

“Holy fuck what was that?!” Ron exclaimed, holding Hermione and rubbing her back soothingly. She sobbed harder, trying not to think about what she saw. Luna was the first to reply.

“It looked like a corpse.” Her dreamy voice answered, her expression calming as her adrenalin rush quieted. The groups breathing leveled out but the sense of fear and… confusion was still there. 

“I want to get out of here…” Neville murmured, casting his gaze to the floor. 

“At least we have our bags.” Hermione muttered, finally pulling her face out of her boyfriend’s chest.

“Trust you to think about that at a time like this.” At least the mood was lightened slightly.

“I think… I think it was the maid. You know the one that Harry mentioned in the diary that disappeared? I think that was her…” Hermione whispered, letting Ron lead her and the group away from the servant’s quarters. She sniffled, still clinging to Ron. 

“Yeh, it probably was…”

“She was murdered…”

―∞―

The Dark Trio stood idly in the cellar, investigation each individual door and trying to decide which one they would go through first. Harry sat amused in the centre of the room, eyeing each of his new friends with a smile on his face. He told them before that he had never been there and no one had ever spoken of three doors.

“It was rumored to be part of the old house that was destroyed in the fire. Does that help any?” He spoke up suddenly, catching Draco’s attention. They smiled at each other.

“Yeh, it does.” The blonde replied, getting out his notebook and jotting down Harry’s comment for later speculation. Pansy spotted her friend with his notebook and torch in his mouth, rolling her eyes at the image it made.

“Mr. Malfoy, you are such a nerd.” She giggled, placing her hands on her hips for a moment before turning back to Blaise. The dark skinned young man was focusing on one of the doors. He pushed in the thumb lever on the door handle before pulling in, listening to it as it creaked open. For being such a heavy looking metal door – with rust and the lot – he was surprised at how easy it opened.

“Must be on rollers. Well greased rollers…” He murmured, shining his torch down the hallway and taking in the length of it. The room temperature dropped before a gust of wind entered the room from the newly opened door. He shielded his face, choking on the onslaught of rotting stench. Blaise and Pansy pulled away from the door as they felt water or something spitting onto their skin, wiping it away from their faces. Pansy covered her nose and mouth, moving to stand next to Blaise. The wind died down, leaving a shocked group. 

Draco shined his torch on his friends, his going wide as he took in their appearances. He had also covered his mouth from the stench and only now allowed himself to drop his hand.

“Guys… you have blood all over you…” Pansy shone her torch down at her hands before wiping at some of the liquid from her face. She stared at her fingers for a moment before screaming shrilly.

“Ew! Oh my god, what the fuck?!” She wiped furiously at her face, trying to get as much of it off as possible before wiping it on her already blood splattered clothes. She stopped to retch, facing the corner and putting her hands on her knees as she vomited. Blaise had a disgusted expression on his face, but other than that he calmly went about wiping the blood off of his skin. Draco moved from his relatively safe position to rub Pansy’s back as she calmed down. He reached into his bag, pulling a bottle of water out and a clean hanky. 

“Here Pans, clean your face and wash out your mouth.” He offered the objects to her and she took them. She opened the bottle and squirted some water into her mouth before sloshing it around and spitting it out. Pansy then put a bit of water onto the hanky before handing the bottle back to Draco who closed the cap and put it back in his bag. Pansy stood up straight and wiped at her face with the hanky.

“Thank-you Draco…” She murmured before shoving the dirty hanky into her bag. “I’ll buy you a new one.” Draco chuckled, rubbing her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Harry stood and walked over to the trio, his glow lighting the immediate area around them. Draco gave him a grin, his eyes twinkling.

“How about we go through this door?” The group thought about it with slight hesitance on Pansy’s part. She ended up shrugging – the other two doors could be worse for all she knew.

“Sure, why not.” Blaise grinned, folding his arms across his chest.


	8. Expose

“Mother, Mother,  
No one, no where, would agree,  
That your ability far surpasses he.  
Mother, Mother,  
You should not lose your hope  
You”re not nearing the end of the rope.  
Never more,   
Shall I let your words pierce  
You”ll always be this fierce.  
Never more,  
Shall I encourage your ways  
But I know they”ll always stay.”

―∞―

“You should not be here.” I glanced up from the worn pages, green eyes landing on my beautiful mother. Sorrow etched its way into my heart. I think... I think I could see her raw want to talk to me on more familiar turns. I am her son, after all. I’m a piece of her. 

I nod, closing my book and getting up to place it back in its spot on the shelf. I would be back tomorrow. I would find it. I would read it from where I left off. It’s how it always went. I spent most of my time here now. I couldn’t stand my rooms. Too empty... and I could see Him working in the garden from my window. 

Slowly I retreated back into the solitude, silently telling my Mother that I didn’t hate her as I walked past. I could never hate her. I hope she knew that. 

The room was cold as I entered it, heading straight for my bed. I sat down on the edge, peeling back the deep maroon curtain to peer out the window. He was outside again today, cleaning out the fountain before our house. My sister stood near him, probably flirting. She never talked to me but did enjoy throwing me dirty looks. 

I sighed, sitting back and letting the curtain fall. There was something not quite right about that man.

―∞―

Later on, when night had crept up on the household and after the maids had brought me my dinner and stayed for a small chat (and some food) while they weren’t needed, I reflected. I never really knew why my Father hated me as he did, or why my brothers ignored me and my sister threw me looks or why my Mother hid her motherly love for me. It wasn’t commonly talked about within the household, nor was it ever mentioned in any of the “family biographies” that were updated quite regularly. 

These musings left me to wallow in the self-pity I knew I didn’t deserve. The maids had told me a lot about the people of London and other places that lived in near poverty. The history books I read also showed me that compared to a lot of other people I lived in great comfort. To them, it didn’t really matter that I was without family even while they were right next to me. All that mattered was that I had food to fill my empty stomach. That I had clothes on my back and a roof over my head. I envied them because they had and felt love, while they envied me because I had most of the basic needs.

These two things where on my mind a lot and both were very much entwined with one another.

I can honestly tell you, though, that I never found out the answer to the first, and never received what I dreamed of with the second. 

―∞―

“My little Master, what are you doing out this late?” Swiftly I turned, eyes wide as I took in the tall, handsome form of Tom Riddle. His equally green eyes bored into mine. A smirk upturned his lips, forcing a blush onto my face as I diverted my eyes and took the part of the “blushing virgin” who I often read about in novels. He took steps towards me, taking me in. Fear tingled up my spine. The maids never ventured out past a certain time now, not since May disappeared. Some, many, blamed Riddle, but none had enough courage to go up against a man their employers loved and respected. 

How could I be so stupid as to leave my rooms at this time?

I shifted awkwardly, knowing at this point I was at least near the servant’s quarters, the rooms where the live in maids slept. They would come if they heard me yelling. But I hoped that I would be safe anyway, and that our mistrust was misplaced. It would be horrible to have a madman living in our house...

“Little Master... would you like to take a walk with me.” I sharply looked up, peering up at him through my thick rimmed glasses. I shook my head, stepping in the direction of my room before his arm shot out and stopped me. I fearfully looked up at him but did pause. He smiled –not his half smile or smirk – and pulled me closer to him.

“You fear me. Just like they do.” He paused, bending down to whisper in my ear. I gasped, pulling back from him and dashing down the hallway, not stopping until I reached my room. I closed my door soundly behind me, stumbling over to my bed and pulling the covers over me. I slowly gained my breath, silently reviewing his words. I didn’t know his meaning yet.

“Little Master, I’ll give you a whole new reason to fear me. When this is over, you’ll be mine forever and then you’ll know pain, you’ll know suffering and you’ll know solitude.”

―∞―

The passage was dark, their torch lights not reaching too far in front of them. The shadows ate the light, making it extremely hard for the four friends to see their own feet. They were horrified to realise – after having shone a torch along the stone walls – that the “decorations” within the cold hallway consisted mainly of blood painting the walls a clotting red. The smell grew stronger as they continued, and the four found themselves wishing – hoping – that they wouldn”t come across rotting corpses. 

They continued in silence for ten minutes or so, growing tired of the endless corners (how had they not run into one of the other pathways yet?). Their adrenaline continued to simmer below the surface, but they remained calm and in control. Pansy a little less than others. 

“Guys, maybe this wasn”t such a good idea... er... maybe we should head back. Y-you know... um... we could go to the garden or something...” Pansy stuttered, “eeping” as she noticed a skull against one of the walls. She clung to Blaise, shivering against the cold and the fear creeping up on her again. Draco hummed in response, basically ignoring her in favour for watching his surroundings and Harry with his glowing, ethereal form. Blaise was smiling and comforting Pansy, enjoying the break in the silence. 

The hallway soon came to and end and they were met with a door. Draco hesitantly walked up to it, eyeing it critically before reaching out for the door knob and twisting it. The wood creaked and groaned – and the hinges protested just as loudly – but the door gave and opened to reveal a marginally brighter room. Draco shone his torch around, taking in the wooden bench in the centre of the room and shelves that lined the walls. They entered the room with apprehension, gazing around with wide eyes and questions on their tongues. 

The room, other than those immediate objects, was much more interesting then the bare room at the foot of the stairs coming down into this place. There were two chairs, both wooden, one before the table and one in the corner to the right of the door. The shelves were lined with old tomes and books with the occasional odd objects breaking them up. Dust covered everything and spider webs hung in corners. The table held an old alchemy set; and old mortar and pestle and other tools Draco couldn’t name, as well as an open book with the neat scrawl of a scholar. He frowned as he read a couple of sentences, a little shocked to be reading about a questionable ritual that had the aim of something definitely immoral. 

Blaise skimmed the titles of the books; “The Theories of Necromancy”, “Dark Rituals”, “Mother Night”, “Discoverie of Witchcraft”, “History of England’s Magic”. He was stunned.

“Someone obviously likes magic, guys.” He spoke, breaking the contemplative silence as the four of them gazed around the room with something akin to awe and shock. Draco nodded, pulling out what appeared to be a journal from the shelf he was gazing at. He opened it, reading the first few lines.

“And so it hath been, and so it will be. The World will not know of its true Heritage, and it shall be kept from it til it is worthy of the right to know of the Lady’s gifts for the few deemed superior enough for it. We shall be the Hidden, the Magickal, the Mystical.”

Frowning, Draco placed the old journal in his bag.

“These guys are crazy.” He muttered to Harry, who stood next to him giving off the only light he needed to read the titles. Harry smiled, agreeing with him fully. Draco smiled back before looking back at the titles and dragging his finger across their spines. He stopped at one, pulling it out and flipping it open to a random page.

“Necromantic powers are gifted to those willing to achieve anything through Death. It is said they are to be the favoured “children” of Her Lady Death, although there has been no evidence to prove such claims. Among all the Children; Witches, Were, Drinkers, Summoners and Talkers, they certainly are the most dark – could this be the reasoning behind their superiority?”

Draco shrugged, putting that in his bag too.

“Draco, don’t you think this is a little weird?”

“Of course I do, Harry. D’you think we could find the answers as to why some of the things we’ve come across are happening?” Harry shrugged, unsure.

“Maybe. Or maybe this is a whole new mystery.”

―∞―

The four sat silently at the back of the room, their backs against a steady bookshelf and with interesting tomes in their laps. Harry peered over Draco’s shoulder, who tilted the book so his favourite Ghost could read. The book their held was the Journal from the shelf and Draco had a hard time translating some of the chosen words into what would be used today. Pansy sat with the journal off the table, her eyes flickering over the spidery script, and Blaise read a book on “Dark Rituals”.

“These bastards were freaky if they really believed this crap.” Blaise muttered, flicking the page as he slowly read up on “how to create the perfect slave in five easy steps” (although, truthfully that wasn’t the name of the ritual, he just couldn’t understand latin). Pansy nodded, shifting a little against his side.

“Got that right. This guy keeps on going about status, magick and Necromancers…” Draco mumbled, almost forgetting that Harry was a Ghost as if began the movement to touch him. He caught himself just in time though, before it was noticeable, and turned the page instead.

“… yesterday my family saw a little more about their Son’s life. My Mother was unfortunate enough to have walked in part way through one of our meetings. She was shocked, and left us before she could take in much of what we were doing. I believe she only really saw the maid we had on our table. She will have to be dealt with today. The clan cannot have a loose tongue exposing our truths. They are not yet ready to here of the real world, of the magick within them, the magick they too could tap if they only could see the darkness…”

Draco sighed, raising an eyebrow delicately.

“They were murderers, then.” Harry spoke, his glowing finger hovering over the words before pointing at the date. “1523… that’s a long time ago.” I nodded, agreeing with him. Pansy glanced up at us, checking the date on her journal.

“This one began in 1843, but the last entry was in 1859. That was the same year the original house was burnt down, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes… I suppose maybe they believed these all lost in the fire then.”

Harry pondered in silence for a moment, recalling back on his living days.

“When I was fifteen the cellar became off-limits to almost everyone. The maids were a little miffed about that, as they liked to steal some of the wine occasionally… Before that, there was no tales of those three doors. Do you think they were recently added during those years?” He spoke, frowning as he thought harder about those days. “My fifteenth birthday was when Tom Riddle came… the same time the cellar was off-limits. Do you think he was the reason?” Draco stared at Harry thoughtfully.

“Maybe. It’s worth some consideration.” Harry nodded, agreeing with Draco. Pansy “hmmed” before turning back to her journal and skimming over the pages while Blaise stared thoughtfully at his friends, considering much of what they were saying.

“A lot of these books are about magical things. Most on Necromancy.” He started another discussion, drawing them away from their books. 

“Maybe whoever it was who collected them was a Necromancer?” Blaise nodded, smiling to himself. 

“It’s a pretty cool idea. I wouldn’t mind being one. Or a vampire. Pansy would be a witch, I reckon, while Draco would probably have been… a summoner, as I read in this book that they generally had “unearthly appearances” and Harry would have been a Ghost. Or if not, I’d say a witch.” Pansy peered curiously up at Blaise, while Draco regarded him with a sceptical expression. 

“Why would Harry be a witch?” Draco asked, staring at his friend as if he had two heads.

“… Because, um… the book said…” Blaise paused to think, furrowing his brow while doing so. “It said that witches were not determined by gender. So why couldn’t he have been one? It was just a suggestion. Not as if it matters, really.” Draco shrugged, un-moved by the show of “childish” behaviour. 

“Yep, and Hermione would have been something Ugly, the same as Ron, while Neville would probably have died of fright.”

―∞―

“Little Master, I’ll give you a whole new reason to fear me. When this is over, you’ll be mine forever and then you’ll know pain, you’ll know suffering and you’ll know solitude.”

For days I pondered those words, but nothing came to me as to what he meant. I never discussed it with Mary or Beatrice when they stopped by with food and drinks, and I never wrote them down in fear that that would make them prophetic.

I dodged Riddle with even more fervour as the days past, but the man did not seem troubled by this. It unsettled me even more. The maids asked me on occasions if something was wrong, as I seemed to always be fearful and pale. Mother, when she saw me, gave me odd looks and whispered to a maid near her.

Was I right? Did she care?

―∞―

My nights were much like my days, spent mainly in thought with little sleep to break the monotony. At times, I spent most of it writing in my journal. About every little thing that occurred, documenting almost every movement I saw in the house. At night I reviewed them, considered their usefulness in my new goal to figure out Riddle. He was much like his name, a puzzle. One I just could not figure out.

It was so very troublesome.


End file.
